“Three’s Company” (from l. to r. Nick Fauble, Michael James Schneider, Cesar Marquez)

First appeared in PQMonthly

You know the scene: Kirk and Spock face insurmountable odds against a supercomputer, or evil androids, or an alien with a twisted morality. Then Kirk, in his swaggering wisdom, asks the computer a question that shouldn’t have an answer, or commands his bridge crew to do an illogical performance that will confound the androids. The computer halts, the android freezes while doing “the robot”, and our noble crew takes advantage of the confusion to make their escape while they leave behind a flustered mess of smoking, charred circuitry.

This is the scene in my head after I asked him, “Hey, are we exclusive?” I expected him to say “nah, but maybe later” or “sure thing”, but instead he threw me a curveball. Rich looked at me with his baby blue eyes and said “Sure, for now. I’ll want to open it up later though.” What? Didn’t I cover this base when I read his dating profile? “Um, when does that happen exactly?” I asked tentatively. “When we have a strong enough emotional connection.” “Oh yeah. Sure. Of course”, I stammer as my brain literally starts melting from the seeming logic problem that it’s confronting. Continue reading →

Disclaimer: I don’t consider it particularly noble or funny anymore to post photos of screenshots of private conversations on dating apps. Nevertheless, this series of posts strikes a chord in a lot of people, so I have kept the screenshots in.

So I’m standing there in front of the bathroom mirror in my apartment the other day with my shirt off, trying to take a selfie with my phone. I’m heartbroken, because swimsuit season is coming and my naked body looks like it’s covered in cargo shorts. I’m jockeying for a better angle, and then I drop my phone, which has a stupid-heavy case. It hits the glass soap dispenser on the way down, shattering it and terrifying my cat Ned, who has come into the bathroom to maybe drink some toilet water. He’s startled and knocks some decorative stuff off the top of the commode into the toilet bowl.

After he runs out of the bathroom through the pieces of glass, tchotchkes, and a possibly broken phone, I take a long look at myself in the mirror. How did it get like this? I think. What the hell has happened to romance and dating?
Continue reading →

“Unfriending Ned”

So I wanted to let you know something. I unfriended you on Facebook today. And you. And yes, despite my reservations, you too. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, even though it’s just social media, and in the end it’s only pixels. I wondered for some time why we were even online friends anymore. I wondered if I was still friends with you so that I could see your life, but that’s definitely not it: I blocked you from my feed afterwards. Maybe I blocked you because it stung a little when you posted something joyous and frivolous the day after you hurt me. No, that wasn’t against any dating “rules.” It was just tacky as fuck of you. I haven’t looked at your page since then.

I realized I was still friends with you because I found value in you seeing how great my life has become since you hurt me. I wanted you to read my book or wish you were hanging with me in my awesome pad. But I quickly realized how narcissistic that was. In the end, I don’t give bad people the benefit of access to my life. You broke the social construct of decency. So I pressed the button, and I felt fucking fantastic about it. Wait, what’s that? You’re surprised? Okay, here’s why: Continue reading →

“Date Night” (from l to r, Michael James Schneider, Michael James Schneider; manipulation by Tucker Cullinan)
 

Self-awareness is a terrifying and wonderful thing. So is self-loathing. One is great for growth and change, and the other is good for…well, it’s good for self-deprecating blog posts. One thing I’ve learned in this last couple years of being single is how to down an entire box of Franzia in one evening that it takes a lot of guts to date. I mean, it’s basically parading your entire, horrible, broken self out there and hoping that someone else loves your sad life and lumpy, misshapen body.

But what happens when it’s one too many rejections? With all the rejection I’ve had these past two years, the real common denominator isn’t that I’m attracted to only jerks (because I’m not anymore), or that I’m into something weird like ButterSports (because I’m not but God that sounds delicious). The universal factor is me. If there’s nothing wrong with the world, maybe there’s something wrong with me. So I took myself on a date, and it went about as well as you could expect. Continue reading →

(from l. to r., Michael James Schneider, Ned)
 

I’m the single guy who actually, secretly loves Valentine’s Day. Like, to say “I heart it” is an understatement. Who wouldn’t? Spring is just around the corner, couples are walking around hand in hand, and then there’s me. Struggling with my groceries after another day at work, going to my apartment in NE Portland, open the door…and there’s my cat, Ned, mad that I haven’t fed him yet. He’s all the man I need. Probably all the man I can handle. And you know what they say: the first cat is always the gateway cat. Continue reading →