The Weekly Spread: I Know Why the Caged Bird [Redacts]

Pickles is sized up & accepted into the flock.

And so, the first chapter of young Pickles’ new life in DC comes to a close with the realization that I’ve become what I hate most. This summer I’ve gone out practically every weekend, participating in gay funtivities that range from the innocuous house party to the pants-off dance-off intern slutfest that passes for nightlife in this city. I thought I had left all of my crazy days back in Korea and Poland, but alas, I’m now a card-carrying DC gay. I’ve come to this conclusion based on the following:

Click here for an easy to read list..

The Weekly Spread- The Regular Gay’s Dupont Survival Guide

The DC gay is a fascinating, if one-dimensional, animal best observed in his natural habitat: any gay bar within a five-mile radius of the 20036. If you’re a regular gay like Pickles, you’re only admitted to this privileged world occasionally, usually through a more inebriated friend who wants to show you the “real DC” you’ve been missing. If you find yourself in this situation, here are some behavioral norms you should adopt to live long and prosper in the foggy bottom of society that Dupont attracts.

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Pickles Pulls the Plug – The Weekly Spread

It was bound to happen. Pickles has officially run out of juice. As in energy to date, not the lead-in to a refractory period. This isn’t because I haven’t enjoyed dating, or because I’ve had a particularly negative experience in the past couple months. Frankly, I’m tired of the repetition. Take Monday, for example. I hadn’t been on an actual date in a while, but this guy started talking to me on OkCupid and suggested we “meet up” for happy hour. I obliged, but fifteen minutes into this lurid encounter in a Foggy Bottom watering hole, I started having deja vu. It didn’t take long for me to realize why.

See why....

Jak Sie Masz? – The Weekly Spread

Polish Pickles

Polish Pickles?

I’ve been known to burn some bridges with this column. In response to my observations about their behavior, Country Fried defriended me, Awkward Turtle called to yell at me, and Multitasker’s best friend sent me hate mail. Last week I outlined my manifesto about my writing, and about attempting to date in this ridiculous town in general. This week I’m taking a sick, sad trip down memory lane to prove that I reserve my harshest criticism for myself.

Keeeeep reading!.

The Weekly Spread – Delights in Dating, an Introduction

As you may have deduced from the title, this is going to be a weekly feature about dating.

Sometimes disappointing, often bizarre, and always hilarious, my dating life in DC has been the fodder for many a happy hour conversation. I moved here six months ago for grad school here in Foggy Bottom, and I’ll admit to having more than a few expectations about gay life here.

Growing up in the South and living overseas in countries that claim to have no gay population, I grew accustomed to small, insular communities that were for the most part friendly and supportive. Sure, there were plenty of problems with such a dating culture, namely the size of the pool meant everyone knew when you peed in it.

But I digress. The point is, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into when I ventured onto the DC dating scene. I’ll admit, I have a profile on more than one dating site. I knew I’d need to “get myself out there” in ways I’d never before considered. The responses I’ve received have run the gamut from batshit insane to ridiculously salacious. Of course, I’ve used traditional methods for meeting guys as well, like bars and parties and whatnot, but the funniest stories always come from my online dates.

Which brings us to the reason I’m writing this.

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