What Is The Most Memorable Moment You Shared With A Stranger Whom You Never Saw Again?

What’s the point of this?

At an airport when I was 17. we were both waiting for connecting flights...he was a doctor in NYC and looked like a young Mark Harmon. I was a student on way to Boston University. We were chatting for over 3 hours and had such a great connection, he gave me his number, told me to look him up if I ever visited NYC.

Never saw him again.

Wasn't this the plot of a TV show or movie? Her husband was impotent. but they wanted children so she went around hooking up in an attempt to get pregnant? Cheaper than a sperm clinic.

OP, are you saying that the woman changed her phone number after having coffee & sex with you? Seems like a drastic way to avoid a second hookup.

R2 It would have been different if you had gone to school “in Cambridge.” Just so you know…

R4 she probably just gave a fake number.

I was on a country road and a guy came out of his house to help me with a flat tire. It was getting dark so TG.

I used to drive an airport shuttle. I was driving this guy to the airport and we had a lovely conversation about travel and different European cities. I mentioned at one point that my dad is from Ireland. As he was getting off the shuttle he turned and said "it's great that you're aware of your heritage. THEY are always trying to make people feel ashamed of being white". It was shocking because he seemed so nice and normal.

I was sitting next to this hot guy on a plane. I thought oh, cool; he seems friendly. Who knows? Maybe I'll make a new friend.

Then, the stewardess comes along and asks if one of us can move our seats so that two sisters can sit together.

"Unless you two are together?"

As I started to gather my things and get up, I said, "I'll always wonder."

He chuckled. But ...I'm sure he was straight.

More recently, I called customer service at Best Buy because my bill was confusing; a SUPER NICE rep named Vicky jiggled some figures. I'm on an interest free plan for a year on one item and six months for another; I'm motivated to pay it all off and my faith was renewed in human nature; she made it easy; we exchanged a few nice words.

OP, you had sex, went for coffee, and had a boner again?

OP is a woman with a lady boner.

When I was a grade school kid, I went to a big Midwest city to buy comic books at garage sales as my mom was a big fan of them & used our hobbies to get us to go to them ("They got great deals on everything!").

I got a great deal on 3 of those white long comic book boxes packed from front to back that had ones with covers (& some without, but I didn't care as I just loved to read & find new characters) & we loaded them into the trunk which depressed me as I wanted to go them some of them in the car ride back LOL!. Oh well...

A guy older than my dad bought some after I did (I think he gracious waited until I got mine) & then he started slowly walking home with his batch down the sidewalk & (I think after going to another close by garage sale) my parents saw him on our the way out of the big city, my dad slowed down so I rolled down my window & talked to him for a few minutes (my siblings just wanted to go back home & were NOT happy with our little talk) he said he had thousands of comics just like me & said I should come over & see them sometime & my young self said "Well where do you live?" He chuckled & pointed down the street to another neighborhood & I asked my parents if we could go see them, but they said we had to get back to the house which was about an hour+ drive away. He waved goodbye to us & I always wondered what having another comic book fan to talk to (like myself) would've been like growing up.

This was over 40 some years ago & he is probably long dead by now, but he made my month with all of his kindness & patience.

.

^ That should read = "go THROUGH some of them in the car ride back".

R12 how many comic books do you still have?

[quote]R10: OP, you had sex, went for coffee, and had a boner again?

It's my understanding of OP's post that there was no sex; just coffee and conversation, and he had a boner, of which she was doubtfully aware.

I concur with R6. Fake number.

What I wonder is, why is this anecdote in any way germane to a gay board? It's about OP's heterosexual attraction.

Gay bar in the US.

I was bored one night (I'm a guy) and went out alone.

I met two straight girls from New Zealand and we just started talking. We talked about their country and all kinds of nonsense. We were joined by their trans friend (MTF) who was a riot. Started telling me about her Iraqi boyfriend who she picked up hitchhiking - in New Zealand of all places - and they started dating. Naturally, there was lots of drama in that relationship.

Then another solo guy joined us, and before you know it, we were a five-some. The drinks were flowing!

One of the girls had an uncle who lived nearby and she was staying with him. So we walked to his place to get to marijuana.

Then we all went from there to a nearby beach, and smoked the weed and just kept talking.

I actually passed out in the sand and woke up around 5am.

They were still talking when I woke up. I said I had to go home, so I said goodbye to them and walked back to my car and drove home, which was only a short distance away.

When I woke up later that day, I had a big smile on my face, thinking about what a great time I had with these total strangers.

It was wild.

[Quote] Wasn't this the plot of a TV show or movie? Her husband was impotent. but they wanted children so she went around hooking up in an attempt to get pregnant? Cheaper than a sperm clinic. R3

I’m not sure if it was the plot of a movie but Heart has a song about it.

Speaking of wrong phone numbers, does any NY’er remember the real-looking, fake number you could give out to someone that had a recording on the other end of it? I say the number was real-looking because it wasn’t a “555-“ number and it had the 212 Area Code.

That number was useful to give out a couple times when I lived in NYC. There was also another fun number to use, it connected the caller to a recording of the menu options for some random hospital cafeteria. It was read by the most positive, earnest southern woman.

I was sitting on a bench at the entrance to the Meat Rack on Fire Island when a boy tapped me on the shoulder and said come with me. I thought what the hell. I stood up and he took me by the arm and walked me out of the Meat Rack and inside a little archway in a hedge that led to a wooded lot. "Look!" he said. As my eyes adjusted to the dark I saw what looked like thousands of fireflies rising, floating up into the air. It was awesome. When I turned around, the guy was gone.

Gay Penthouse Forum

Sounds like you struck out because you made her feel old, OP.

Freshman year of college, still sort of straddling the closet door. Went to the first Lilith fair with a bunch of girls in my dorm. One girl, (I don't even remember her name) was bringing her brother along. His name was Clay. I thought it was a really dumb name until I met him. He was beautiful. A perfect Clay. Sat next to him in some other girl's parents minivan. We talked a little bit. He said something about being the only guys who would be at this thing. I didn't dare tell him how much I was looking forward to it, so I sort of blew it off as well. We were too poor to get seats at the show so we got lawn seats on the hill. We sat on the same blanket all day, walked around together. His legs were really hairy, which I still like, so when we sat next to each other, our leg hair would sort of connect. I remember him saying he was like human velcro. When the Indigo Girls sang "Closer to Fine," they yelled for everyone to hold hands. I got nervous, but he grabbed mine. It felt amazing.

Drove back to school, and we sat on the bench seat in the back of the van. Legs touching the whole way home. Very quiet.

When we got back to the dorm, he got out with me. We talked for a bit as the sleepy girls shuffled out the other side of the van. He said "That was fun, we should do it again next time I'm in town."

I said, "Absolutely. I'm at the same phone number s your sister. Just give me a call."

"Absolutely."

Never saw him again.

I just wish I would have asked his sister for his number or something, but I was too chickenshit.

Please define "never saw him again."

I was sitting on a bench in my building, and a little girl carrying a doll walked up to me and said "King Kong will stop the rain." She kissed her doll and walked away. Never saw her again.

I’m confused. Did OP have sex or just coffee?

A mystical encounter on an ordinary morning.

In April of 1986, when I was 37 and about 4 months sober in AA, the older AA guy I’d been seeing for a month called and broke up with me. I was disconsolate, wrapped up in loss, as I took the subway some mornings later into Manhattan from my Brooklyn home, to get to my job at an ad agency. At my stop in Manhattan, along with the crowd, I stepped on the escalator, carrying us all up to the level of the token booth. And I felt the man standing next to me take my hand, and hold it until we both reached the top, where we both went our separate ways.

No words exchanged, not even a glance. Yet I was renewed, and felt ready to go on.

True story.

Oh thanks R17, I knew I had heard that plot somewhere, yeah that is what I was thinking of, thanks again. I think watching the video made me think it was a movie.

Visited a friend on Martha’s Vineyard, and a group of her restaurant co-workers joined us for a moonlight beach walk.

Alcohol was passed around, inhibitions loosened, and the hottest guy decided that it was time to skinny-dip. He and I were the only ones brave enough and sprinted into the warm ocean.

The water was alive with bioluminescence that swirled and glowed as we swam. The moment was so otherworldly that once we were floating far enough from shore, he wrapped me in an embrace and the electricity of our bodies touching was incredible.

r3 is was a Heart song. All I want to do is make love to you.

In the 90s I was flying across the country a couple times per month and would often have my assistant book a weekend stay in my home town to visit my parents. On a Sunday afternoon return to Boston in the middle of winter, saw a big guy with a nice beard and shining blue eyes waiting to board, and struck up a conversation. The more we talked the more we realized we had a lot in common, a lot of shared values, both there visiting family on the way home from a business trip, discussed our lives in depth, the kind of convo you have when you meet someone you really click with and feel something. Either he was feeling it too, or was a really good actor. They announced a delay and we sat there and chatted and lost track of time. Other passengers started to complain when we'd been waiting for four hours and we were both surprised that much time had lapsed. The flight was eventually cancelled, the airline offered no accommodation but said they could get you on a flight the next day. In a moment of utter stupidity, we both said we'd have to call family to come get us or book a hotel... and being the kind of guys we are/were, called the fam. Why didn't I suggest getting a room together? Why didn't he? Nervous, I guess. We exchanged numbers, said maybe we'd see each other the next day and said goodbye. He wasn't on the flight the next morning much to my disappointment. I called the number a few days later — didn't want to seem too infatuated and forced myself to wait despite thinking of little else — but a woman unexpectedly (he'd made no mention of a living situation involving a female) answered so I hung up (and if I were being overly dramatic, crushed).

[quote] What Is The Most Memorable Moment You Shared With A Stranger Whom You Never Saw Again?

This is a very difficult question on a gay chat site.

[quote]What Is The Most Memorable Moment You Shared With A Stranger Whom You Never Saw Again?

All of them.

Forgive me if you've read this here before.

I had just bought a brand new motorcycle and I was new to FL (1997), and I was riding home to St. Pete from Orlando, where I'd visited a gay bookstore. I saw a big cloud in the distance, and rain coming down under it, but I thought, "If I really hurry, I can beat it!"

So I got on the Howard Frankland Bridge (7 miles long), and as soon as I got on the bridge, I could feel the wind. [I saw later on the news it was 65 mph on the bridge.] It was blowing so hard I thought I was going to lay the bike down for sure. I was terrified and shaking for the entire 20 minutes it took to get to the other end. I had decided I was going to pull over as soon as I could, put on my rain suit, and wait out the coming storm. Then I got off the bike and was attempting to put on my rain suit as it flapped around in the horrific wind.

A car pulled over behind me, and the woman (pretty obviously a lesbian) walked over to me, asking me if I was OK. Of course I said I was, even though I was still weak and shaky. But she said, "You need to get in my car." I demurred, because my bike was new and I didn't want to leave it on the bridge, especially in that wind. But she insisted, saying, "I'll take you anywhere you want to go, but you need to get in my car right now." I finally got in, and she started to drive me back to my place.

About a mile later, after it was pouring down rain, she asked me, "Are you 'family'?" I said, "Yeah - I thought that's why you pulled over." She said, "No -- I actually thought you were a man. But I had a premonition that if I didn't pick you up, you were going to die on the bridge."

She dropped me off at my place and I never saw her again.

I saw an angel, of that I'm sure...

[quote] But I had a premonition that if I didn't pick you up, you were going to die on the bridge."

But you were already off the bridge.

What did you do with your bike?

I've mugged a few. The one I knocked out is probably the most memorable.

I love that story, R34.

All you have are scant memories

R36? You can be "off" the part that goes over the water and still be on the bridge; that's where I was.

[quote]What did you do with your bike?

I'm so glad you asked! Because that's [italic]the rest of the story[/italic].

After it stopped raining, I called a buddy from AA and got her to take me out to the bridge to pick up my bike, which (of course) entailed going the whole way back over the bridge, getting off at the first exit thereafter, and then flipping around to go back toward St. Pete.

My bike was still there -- but guess what? I had gotten a ticket for parking it on the bridge! Oh, well -- whaddya gonna do?

Who was his fan base?

It was raining and dark and the streets were deserted or so I thought. I never saw him coming but an old homeless man dragging a wagon filled with doll's came walking toward me..

I crossed the street and at once saw another man standing in a door way I had not noticed. He said good thing you crossed the street that old guy is a dangerous leftist anarchist,

I turned to look and just like that both men were gone. There was no coffee or sex.

I rented a cabin with some friends at a state park, I was about 20 at the time. I walked to the swimming beach and swam for about 20 minutes. I was out of the water, standing, just watching my friends in the water and a man walked up and stood about six feet away. I turned to look at him and he had tears in his eyes and said "It's you, isn't it?" .I felt that I knew him and I felt a powerful feeling of connection but I didn't say a thing, I just looked at him. A look of disappointment came over his face and he turned and walked away. He walked to a cabin patio and sat down with a group of people and never looked my way again. I sat on the beach that evening but he never came back to talk to me. The next morning the cabin was empty, the cars were gone. He was an attractive man, 15 to 20 years older than me, that encounter haunted me with sadness for years. I've never felt a connection like that again.

R34 you’re not forgiven

The guy who gave me AIDS at the bathhouse in 1991.

I had passionate, mind-blowing sex with a guy I found online. He was visiting town only for a day or two. It was my first week in a new state, and I was about to start grad school. I had him over to my humble little apartment, we watched a movie and made out, then had the sort of intense, connected sex you only read about in tasteful smut. He was a great kisser. He took his time. He thrust just right and made it feel like the "boyfriend experience."

I never saw him again, and I have long since forgotten his name. He was maybe 21, Black, and adorable. I've yet to surpass that experience.

A guy I met at Sidetracks in Chicago. I was in town celebrating my 40th birthday, he said he was 27. What stays with me so many years later was this admiring stranger saying, “What it must be to be you.”

And is it all that, r47?

R45 is that asshole who signifies nothing…a sound and fury, etc.

When I was in the midst of my salad days in Pittsburgh, in my late 20s, I'd had a bad night out - a terrible time at the bar, called homophobic names by the police on the street (I'd already had a terrible experience with them and so it shook me) and then to add insult to injury I missed the last bus.

Walking home was possible but about an hour walk from the bar I was at, and as I walked along the busy road a carful of guys yelled "FAGGOT" out the window, throwing a beer bottle at me. It narrowly missed me, shattering a few feet away. I stopped and just burst into tears, from sobbing to bawling to choking, heaving cries.

I thought I would collapse when I felt a pair of hands holding me up and guiding me to a car - a sort of big old car, one of those big old boats like an 80s Lincoln with leather seats. I got in and he drove a few feet away, parked the car and then just held my hand while I cried. I told him what happened and as I did, he put his arm around me. We must have been there for close to two hours.

He didn't talk much other than to respond or ask questions, but just had what I can only say was an incredibly centering presence. He calmed me down and told me, "You're a beautiful man, a beautiful soul. Don't let the bastards wear you down." He took me home and dropped me off, kissing my forehead.

He was a handsome man, a definite "daddy" and had he been in the bar - or had I been in just about any other state of mind - I would have gladly gone for him.....but my mind was not on that wavelength at that time. I was very grateful, and thought about him quite a number of times after that.

I never saw him again, but here's the kicker: about four or five years later I was on a date with an older man and I told him about that guy. He asked me a few questions, including about his car, and he said, "Oh, yeah, that was George." "George" was apparently part of a well known Mafia family. He was somewhat closeted - family may not have known but some gay people obviously did know. It made me rethink the knee-jerk judgement of "violent mobster" because he was such a gentle force that night....hard for me to put it into words.

Our fathers after they nutted in our mommies.

This happened about 11 or so years ago.

I was waiting to catch a flight from Cairo to JFK, sitting in the business class lounge (la di da). A lady came and sat on the sofa across from me and soon a server came and took her order and chatted very pleasantly to her. He then turns to me and speaks to me Arabic (I pass for Middle Eastern, Latin, Italian, Spanish etc., but am none of those). I looked at him blankly, and then the lady looks at me and asks, "You're not Egyptian?" I said I wasn't and the server immediately spoke to me and took my order.

The lady and I start chatting and she reveals that she is an actress on a pretty popular Egyptian soap opera! And enjoys moderate celebrity in Egypt. She was very pleasant and we had a great chat, with lots of laughs etc. She was on the way to Morocco to film an episode of her soap opera. I don't remember her name nor the name of the soap, but it was a very pleasant way to spend a long layover.

^^ "spoke to me in English and took my order"

R52 I once sat next to Fran Drescher in the old Delta JFK lounge…so long ago that they had Laz-y-Boy massage chairs. We had a chat—while she vibrated for 20 minutes. She was headed to Paris, we to Madrid.

I spent an hour chatting to a nice good looking bloke in the Concorde room at Heathrow - he was traveling to Nice with his kids, I was off to Chicago.

It wasn’t until the next day that I realised that I’d been chatting to Jude Law - he’d been papped on arrival and I recognised his yellow and red striped T shirt.

These are the least memorable stories I have ever heard.

I was heavily weighted down and overloaded , fully dressed and drowning. I was going under again, Some strong man pulled me out of the river with one hand, Have no idea who he was never had a chance to thank him,

Thanks Buddy (just in case)

I've heard at least two of these stories, before, which is fine.

I’m probably one of them, R58.

I was on holiday—in Cambodia

I had been chatting with another local guy on Yahoo Messenger, yeah this was a long time ago. We finally agreed to meet up but he never showed up, I figured he just got cold feet, I found out later he had killed himself. I keep wondering if he had only come to meet me instead if I could have helped, probably not if he was that far gone.

When I was a very young child (probably less than 5 years old), I was playing with some clay in front of the stoop of our house in the city. I don't think they still sell the stuff. It was a 5-6 inch corrugated square in three colors. I had just taken it out of the packaging when a vagrant (probably middle-aged, though at that time I had no idea how old he might have been) walked by and took part of the clay that I had on the hood of our car parked in front of the house, and he ate the clay. I was so surprised, I ran into the house to tell my parents. But they didn't believe me.

The memory has haunted me my whole life because my parents insisted it couldn't have happened. So I've always wondered whether it really did happen, and if it didn't, what made me think it did.

I went to Paris as part of a college trip. Dream come true, all of it. One night, a group was out in the 7th arrondissement, and after our evening Tower tour, I got separated from the group.

I stopped in at a café to ask for directions to the nearest Métro station. The hostess asked me to wait fifteen minutes, because one of their cooks was getting off work, and also had to go to that Métro station. I waited. He came out (early thirties, 5'10" and thin, dark hair and eyes, possibly bi but possibly straight because he eventually spoke of a girlfriend), and we left.

A few blocks away, we hopped on the train, and exchanged stories. I was there on a college trip. He had moved to Paris from the northern part of France, for culinary study. We chatted for however long it took to get across the city to my stop: Gare du L'Est, which was one stop before his: Gare du Nord. I'm ashamed to say I can't remember his name (it was a very stereotypical French guy name, no more than two syllables), but I've never forgotten that experience. And it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't got lost. I really hope he succeeded in his culinary goals. It took a lot for him to move there to begin with.

Bought my first suit for job interviews in the early1980s in SF. My tie had been tied for me by a Macy's Queen salesman who admonished me that clip-on ties were too tacky. I was age 22 and had never worn a tie. It became unraveled by the time I got to the BART station on my way to an interview.

I approached an older (EVERYONE was "older" back then) man in a business suit and asked him if he could show me how to tie my tie while we waited for the train. He flashed a million dollar smile at me. He sort of did the tie around his neck, then transferred it to my neck, standing very close. He was handsome, articulate, and kind. Smelled great (Gray Flannel, I would later learn). Well groomed. No wedding ring. My gaydar was undeveloped. Asking me questions like where I went to college, what was the job, etc.. He slowly unbuttoned my collar buttons, put the tie on me, re-buttoned my shirt, then ran his fingers through my hair to adjust it, staring deep into my eyes. And, well, just kept touching me. He seemed flattered that I had approached him. People were looking at us.

We missed two trains that were headed downtown. He said to "adjust things down below your belt" before the interview. I had a raging hard-on that I was unaware of (age 22... remember?). Rode the train with him but had to exit a few stations before his. Thanked him profusely. He said he hoped we'd meet again. I did get that job and it launched a life-long career, but sadly, it was located in a part of town that did not allow me to go back to the BART station in the mornings to look for him. Was so naive. I assumed that every male was straight, when in fact, a huge majority of single men in San Francisco back then were gay.

Sorry that this is a porny story, but I'll carry this particular life episode to my grave. The encounter lasted maybe 15-20 minutes. My husband willingly re-enacts this scenario with me a few times per year when we need to wear ties.

R14 None of those thousands. My mom took a waterbed from an adult sibling while I still lived at home (I'm the youngest). I wanted to sleep on it in the basement during the hot summers but she said it was too mice to go down there so it went into the only kids bedroom on the upper floor (next to the master). She convinced me to keep my comics in the big basement bedroom closet (where "they'll be fine") but it flooded one time while I was asleep & she didn't get home until after midnight & found the water up about 3.5 ft. The water ruined them all even those in the plastic bags. I had some special made comic book chests to house some of them in & the water made them all fall apart. My pride possession was the 2nd part of the 1st JLA/JSA team-up before I was even born (I was so heartbroken that it continues to this day). I've diagnosed her as a narcissist (she's a diehard Trumper) & she told me "some of them would've survived if you put them higher up in the basement". I don't even know where that would've been as there was no shelfing that would've spared them. Of course the real crime according to her is all of her old 1940s era toys were ruined as her clothes in the utility room. Why was everything ruined you might ask? Genius mom put the cat litter pans (plural) in the basement & the water pushed it around in every area. Nothing was spared the smell/horror. Signed R12.

^ too NICE" LOL. We never had mice in the basement. I guess even they knew there was cat litter pans down there.

I was 21 or 22, preppy college twink, out. After our usual Saturday night outing at the gay dance club The Boathouse in Austin we ended up at The Chain Drive, the local leather bar. I had never been to a bar like that before, and got throwing up drunk and passed out in the women's restroom (I still have never understood that). Next thing I know some leather daddy in full bondage gear is carrying me out and to his apartment nearby. The last thing I remember was him giving me some Alka Seltzer and lots of water to drink, and tucked me into bed in the guest room.

I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover of my life. I walked out of the room and Leather Man was making me breakfast and made sure I was ok. After that I called my friend from his landline phone to come pick me up and that was the last I ever saw of him.

It amazes me to this day I wasn't raped and tortured.

So many I can't count. I work in the entertainment industry and go to lots of events. You meet so many people and hang out for hours and make a deep connection or so you think. You exchange numbers, emails, etc thinking you made a new friend or connection only to never see them again and have emails and texts ignored. Fuck them.

I know some people above have complained about these stories being boring but I like their subtlety. It’s funny too how sometimes in life you remember people from fleeting non-romantic encounters.

R43: I love that story. I wonder who he thought you were. Did it seem like he was disappointed because he realised you weren’t that person or that you didn’t respond? How long ago was it?

I read somewhere that everybody on this planet is separated by only six other people. Six degrees of separation between us and everyone else on this planet. The President of the United States, a gondolier in Venice, just fill in the names. I find it extremely comforting that we're so close. I also find it like Chinese water torture, that we're so close because you have to find the right six people to make the right connection... I am bound, you are bound, to everyone on this planet by a trail of six people.

I was at a bathhouse one night in May 2019. A slim good looking masculine guy with facial hair ( my type- I like them slim and masculine) stopped and my door and walked in shook my hand and introduced himself and said-

You're beautiful. Let me know if you'd like some company later.

I was so high from what he said I was ready to leave the bathhouse. I did not have sex with him nor did I ever see him again.

r72, wow...It must have been terribly difficult to find any sense of normality after such an exchange.

Yes, R48, that was all to our encounter as I was not attracted to my admirer. But during challenging times over the years, I would replay in my mind what he said, reminding myself how fortunate I am to be me.

R73- It was an embarrassingly nice thing for him to say- especially from someone who was so good looking himself . I'm hairy and muscular and plenty of guys don't like that but he did.

I was on a bus in San Francisco. I had recently broken up with a BF and was extra-sensitive, I guess, to other people's pain.

Anyway, a young woman on the bus was sitting in her seat, crying. She wasn't loud about it, but there were a lot of tears. The bus was pretty quiet and, IMO, it was obvious that we had a person on board who was suffering. (MARY.)

Anyway, I just took a chance, went up to her seat and asked, "Are you okay?" She said yes, she was OK, and smiled at me and said thank you.

I got off the bus before she did.

This is memorable to me because I was hesitant to approach her. I hope that it meant something to her, that a stranger would care.

R76- You're a good egg 🥚

R71 Thank you, Ouisa.

R71?

Are you a millennial or a Z?

This might be a little creepy but here goes. In 1985 I was 15 and a bit of a suburban hellraiser (partied a lot, got suspended from school, crashed a couple cars without a license). Anyway, that summer I went to NYC on the 4th of July for the unveiling of the newly restored statue of liberty. My friend Bob came with me and of course the first thing we did after getting off the train was buy weed and get completely fucking wasted on tall boys.

Though tanked, we somehow ended up in battery park city where we got separated in the crowds.

So I was alone, a bit wobbly and really on edge because the crowds were so nuts.

Eventually the fireworks start and I’m feeling really dizzy. I stepped back at one point, and totally lost my balance, almost falling backwards - then felt an arm prop me up. I turned around to see this very handsome kinda preppy silver daddy. He had caught me. I was confused for a second so he just asked if was ok. I nodded and he smiled. Still holding me up a bit.

He then talked to me throughout the display, pointing out the different ships in the harbor and what they were (he mentioned he had been in the navy before college). His name was Dave and he was down from Boston, visiting friends in the city. Looking back, the guy knew I was a mess and he was being a solid citizen, keeping me company. But there was a little more to it.

While we chatted he kept his hand on the small of my back, just in case I lost my balance again. Being the drunk repressed gay perv that I was, I backed into him a little until my body leaned up against his and he was talking in my ear. We stayed like this for about a half hour. Its the first time I remember swooning.

I can only imagine what this looked like to people around us but I didn’t care. The crowd was so compressed anyway.

After the fireworks, he guided me to the street, keeping his hand on my shoulder. He was going to the upper west side so we rode the 2 train where I got off at Penn Station. He stood in the doorway and called out “get home safe” as the doors closed.

In retrospect , it’s clear he was gay. While a bit of a line was crossed on his part, I really do think he was just a good guy helping out a kid in distress (I should mention I was over 6 feet at 15 and looked older than my age).

So yeah, safe to say that interlude remains one of the most subtlety hot experiences of my life. And it kicked off a lifelong obsession with handsome daddies.

I still think about him every so often.

R61

Rest easy friend meeting you would not have helped save him. He left a note blaming his suicide on some guy on Yahoo that was stalking him.

He said it was an easier way out

R80 - The statue of Liberty unveiling was in the summer of 1986.

Cut me a little slack, the years are a little fuzzy way back then.

[quote] The statue of Liberty unveiling was in the summer of 1986.

And I was there. Antagonizing a Reagan fan in my midst.

I love R19's story. Then again, the whole thread is great.

There's no question that there were hundreds of men I'd see once, many of which were wonderful, but I'm getting this thread isn't about one night stands.

I remember the NYC before cell phones where I'd meet someone and talk with them for hours about deep life subjects, then never see them again.

I particularly remember a guy on a bench in Central Park, and another on the High Line, the latter of whom we ended our visit with an intense kiss...the closest I've come to cheating on my partner of decades.

[Quote] … and I looked older than my age. R80

The first time these words have ever been admitted to on DataLounge. I don’t know whether to be impressed or disgusted.

That poster was 15 at the time of his story and was trying to mitigate the possibility that Kind Stranger Daddy was a pervert. So it's not a huge deal that Poster said he looked older than 15.

R86 Funny

R87 Not Funny

Dorm room in the 80's. A guy from another floor came up to my room one Friday night and we shared a few bong hits. It was quite and didn't seem like many people stayed around for the weekend. . We spent a few hours in deep conversation, sitting in the floor the whole time. We got closer and closer and I think we were both wanting to kiss, but neither of us seemed brave enough to make the first move. I still remember that night, and how sweet and innocent it was. We never hung out again after that, and later I learned he overdosed in the 1990's after making a small name for himself in LA's indie rock scene. But he was really a sweet guy and I have never forgotten that Friday evening so long ago.

It's going to sound like a penthouse forum but this is true. College. I had taken weight training as an physed elective class and we had to partner up. My partner was this tall really good looking guy. He was Italian. Very well built. I was a former HS football center so I was not in bad shape either. We were sort of opposites. I had legs like tree trunks, he had arms like pythons so we showed each other our workouts for arms and legs. We were in class for a semester so technically I did see him over and over but here comes the good part. We got more friendly. He lived off campus and I commuted from home. He asked me one day if I ever came to campus on the weekend. and I said I did occasionally to hang out or go to the campus bars. He invited me out on a Friday night. We met up after classes hung out at his place and then went out to the bars. (I was not publicly out but was fully aware I was gay and had had sex plenty before). Great night, drinking, dancing with strangers, talking, normal college party. Both a little wasted walking back to his place. I was going to go back home and he says I am too drunk to drive, I should stay the night. I was not even thinking about sex but decided to take him up on it and called my house left a message (my standard MO with my parents if I knew I could not drive home, they were fine with it). We go back in his place. Studio apartment with a smallish couch. He pulls down his murphy bed, it's probably king or queen sized I can't remember but I was content to crash on the floor. He tells me not to be stupid there was plenty of room. Yeah so now I am intrigued. I get into bed in my underwear. He went off to the bathroom comes out fully naked. Says he sleeps in the nude if that was cool. Now I was more than intrigued. He slides in and we are laying there in awkward silence. I say I had a really great time he says the same. He made some awkward joke about not getting laid and I said the night was still young or something lame like that. He laughed and turned towards me and said "what do you mean?" Now he is inches from me. I am drunk a little high and figured what the hell I can still drive home if this goes south and I reach out and grab his dick, He is rock hard. He goes "what are you doing?" I said getting you laid. I took the lead and rolled him on his back, I will de porn what happened but I let him fuck em, showed him how and did things to him no one had probably ever done. WHat surprised me was he kissed. I sort of snuck around it kissing his neck and ears until I got to his lips and it was all tongue. Morning comes he is gone. Note says he had to do something and let myself out. I leave. Monday morning he is not in our weightlifting class. The person in charge tells me he dropped out of the class and I should find a new partner. Never saw him again. I knew where he lived but I left it alone. Always wondered what happened to him. Figured I was just a bad lay lol

R90 or he freaked out about having gay sex and bolted.

R90, had you guys seen each other in the showers during the semester? If so, maybe he liked what he saw and decided to go for more, but got more than he bargained for.

OP are you a gay man?

R93- He/She sounds like a Frau

r92 No, no showering. I scheduled it as my last class so I would drive home and shower, because the showers at school were gross. r91 yeah I am guessing he freaked out after. I didn't even hear him leave. I think had I just blown him he would have played the I was so drunk what happened card but I went full on with him, and like I said was surprised he made out with me while fucking. Pretty sure I was the first guy he fucked, He was a little surprised when I guided him in but once I started he was all in so to speak. Dude fucked like a champ though and I would have been happy to be a fuck buddy but never got the chance to tell him. He just ghosted.

R95 maybe you shat on his dick and that's why he avoided you after that.

My driver three Peapod orders ago. What a wonderful, meaningful relationship that evening’s delivery was to me…?us!!

I was about 28 and in the grocery store. I kept seeing an older couple out of the corner of my eye. Everywhere I looked, there they were. It was either comical or creepy.

Finally, in the meat section I hear 'Rescue-chick? is that really you?' and the woman of the couple comes running up to me and grabs my hands. I pulled back and was ready to freak the fuck out but her face was very kind.

I asked her who she was, how she knew me. Her husband joined her and they proceeded to tell me that they were my foster parents when I was a toddler. I actually hadn't known I was in foster care that young but it filled in a few blanks for me.

I was overwhelmed and sort of making 'gotta go' noises when she burst into teand said 'we never understood why they gave you back to your mother, we were so close to adopting you'.

I don't remember how the encounter ended but I have never been more bitter than when I consider how close I came to having a life.

I think it's cool that you were known as Rescue-chick even as a toddler. It's like you were born to rescue.

I worked for a tour company and a guy named Chris worked out in the field. He was the boyfriend of a beautiful girl, Margarita, whom I worked with in the office. We were all in our mid-20s. I had met Chris in the office before and was super attracted to this straight boy but he didn't notice me, or so I thought. My BF Erik and I had a pool party one Saturday and the two of them showed up together but left after a few drinks. It was a great party and people were getting drunk, pushing people into the pool. All of a sudden I realized Chris had returned, by himself. He was in the dining room having more drinks at the table and getting quite toasted by himself. At one point, I realized he needed a break. He was on his way to being sloppy, so I took him into a bedroom and told him to relax. I lowered him onto the bed and he grabbed me and pulled me down on top of him. We started making out but I realized I couldn't do this, even though I really wanted to. It wasn't fair to Erik. So I told him I had a partner and we lived here together. If he wanted to get it on with me, he'd have to let Erik be a part of it. He said OK. After everyone left, we went out and got in the hot tub together and started messing around. God he was hot. We moved into the house naked but it was obvious he wasn't into Erik. He kept pushing him away and concentrating on me. I figured what the hell and after some foreplay I lifted his legs into the air. I was ready, but he wasn't. All of a sudden he jumped up and said he had to go. Damn! I was so close. I heard from him only once more when he called into the office and I picked up the call. We joked around and at one point he said "Well you know I'm a swinger" in response to a question I no longer remember. That was the last time we spoke or met. We both left the company soon after.

In 1985 in Mykonos, a German guy named Howard stood in front of me and kissed me once.

I had no idea a man this beautiful would ever kiss me.

Were drugs involved?

R17 I told him I am the flower, you are the seed. We walked in the garden. We planted a tree.

I was sitting in the aisle seat on a Greyhound bus and this beautiful young hunky guy came on and told me to scoot in so he could sit down. He turned out to be from England and I had lived in England for a few months, so we talked all about it all the way from Amarillo to Flagstaff, where I got off. Never enjoyed a time more. He wrote down his name and address for me. Decades later I found him on Facebook and contacted him, but he didn't respond. Still looked really good, though.

I am R100 and I realized I can condense this. Tl;dr - Here's what happened. I tried to fuck a guy at a party but he left.

I was in Hawaii, and was staying near a marina (I’m not a boater but could see the marina from our hotel room).

I was still having trouble adjusting to the time difference and one morning woke up extremely early. I decided to go out to the marina and sit on some rocks in an area that was near the mouth of the harbor. It looked so pretty and peaceful there. So I snuck out and sat there.

It was cool out and quiet, and not fully light yet. There wasn’t any activity at the boats, and I guessed that was because the boats were all recreational — sailboats, no fishing or other work boats.

An older man who looked like a Hawaiian came along and crunched along the rocks to sit with me — he waved and said good morning. I was worried about small talk but he just sat there looking at the calm water.

Then a most extraordinary thing happened — a marine turtle, shell maybe a foot and a half long, came bursting out of the water! It landed right between the man and me. It seemed disoriented and looked around, but then quickly wheeled and plunked back in the water.

We’ll, I was completely shocked and I turned to look at the man to see what his reaction was, but it turned out I didn’t have time, because immediately after that something much more amazing happened.

Now emerging from the water was a GIGANTIC head — I saw it materialize from the deep because the water was pretty clear and then it gushed out of the water, a HUGE shark head! Like the turtle, the head made landing between the old man and me. It was like Godzilla had just appeared — this colossal head! It twisted back and forth a few times but then slipped back into the water. It wasn’t completely light yet but I could still make out a dark form moving through the water.

The old man looked at me and said something like nibi over and over again. I just looked back at him shaking my head in disbelief. The only explanation I can come up with was the tiger shark had been chasing the turtle and didn’t notice that the turtle has slipped back into the water.

This was ages ago and I’m sure the old boy is long dead, but that was quite a moment I shared with him.

bump

I call bullshit. They knew you as a toddler and recognized you at age 28?

R108 is directed to R98. Rescue-chick is a fraud.

Must you be so unkind?

R109, I don't know. I assume it was because my young son (who was the spitting image of me) was with me but I also have pretty distinctive eyes. I didn't ask.