Being truly sentimental at heart, every year I do the somewhat cliché but always appreciated romantic evening at home. I get dressed up in a jacket and tie and put on a little cologne. I prepare a nice intimate meal by the fireplace, always with a good bottle of wine. Of course I light candles to give just the right ambience and provide that warm glow of love. And yes, I play some soft romantic jazz on the stereo to set the mood.
After a leisurely dinner it is time to retire to the bedroom where I have previously pulled the drapes, dimmed the lights and covered the bed with hundreds of rose petals. I pop the cork on a chilled bottle of champagne, pour, and begin to get undressed slowly. I climb into bed, sip my champagne, and lie there alone, amid the rose petals, wondering why no one will ever love me.
But this year was different—I actually interacted with other people.
Reezy's Valentine's Day Buffet
My friend Reezy had decided to have a dinner party and was kind enough to invite me. There was a great turn out. I got to see many old friends and meet some new ones and, as you can see in the photo above, the food was incredible.
Surprisingly, I was only sightly humiliated by the fact that I was the only one there alone. Even the gay guys who aren't in relationships brought girl dates—what's up with that? I was going to call them on it but, after a few champagne cocktails, I decided to simply lie and tell everyone that my date was in the bathroom. As the evening progressed and I began to get questioned about the bathroom answer, I cleverly stated that my date had been suffering from diarrhea for what seemed like weeks—I think they bought it because everyone stopped asking me about it.
We all decided to go for a nightcap at Vanessie, a very nice restaurant with a piano bar. The entertainment was pleasant—sentimental love songs with a nice piano accompaniment—and there was a good sized crowd enjoying the show.
The evening ended with an art photographer sitting down next to me at our table and asking me to consider being photographed by her—NUDE! She even tried to get my friends to coax me into doing it. Of course, being the shy and modest person that I am, I said no, but she said that if I was uncomfortable we could start with shots from just the waist up. But that doesn't seem like much fun. I have to admit, seeing my tickle-bits dangling in an art gallery not only makes me chuckle but intrigues me a little bit.
Believe it or not, the photographer is legit—she has done fashion, portraits, and magazine work as well as art photography. Who knows, some day there may be nekid pictures of Teezy in galleries and museums everywhere! I'll keep you posted.
And mom, it is not porn if it is in a gallery—it's erotic ART!!
I will leave you with a little side-hug action to show all of you my love (in a "I gots to have abstinence" kind of way):
You had better beware if you see me coming at you "front hug bound with that look in my eye"!
Fortunately, someone had the good sense to shoot them all dead at the end of the show—you know how those fundamental Christians and their guns can be.
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