Mr. Banana Hammock

I met him.

Craigslist is a playground for me, and among the time I have spent there I have observed a few others who use it for their own entertainment purposes as well. Among them one that stands out is a guy who posts daily on men for women. He just writes us letters, makes fun of other shitty ads, posts about women falling all over him, and an asundry of other random events or ideas he happens to be thinking about. This is Mr. Banana Hammock.

So, Friday night I went to Adams Morgan to see him. I've been talking to him back and forth via craigslist for about half a year. He's 36. He's been writing something on craigslist everyday practically for nearly 6 months at least. You can see some of his work here: http://handwashingchampion.blogspot.com

Also if you do a search on Adam's Morgan, age 36 on men for women, you can find more, many many more. He is very entertaining, Online.. And then also, I soon found out, in real life.

We have literally been talking for months. Maybe almost a year. I invited him to the party I had last November, he said he would come but never showed up. We were talking about hanging out on new years eve, he had a birthday last may that I was going to buy a drink for him, but never got my ass moving, and even over the fourth of July I sent a note wondering if he had plans. Suffice to say, nothing has ever materialized.

I know he goes to Angles on Friday's after work, we've had plans to meet up there before, but I never made it. This particular Friday I saw another ad of his. He writes that only commitaphobes psychos, and libras are interested in him. Amusing as usual. So out of this, I think I will make an effort. Sent an email letting him know that I might drop by and will he be there? Yes, he's heading over, and will be there for a few hours until he is too inebriated to move. Ok, decision made, I am moved to action, the effort has been initiated. I head to farragut north, to catch the 42 bus to adams morgan. For some reason its a long journey today (always seems like a long way to adams morgan anymore), and I think about what I’ll be doing afterwards, maybe work out, maybe read, maybe turn in early.

Of course I don’t.

But I don’t know that yet. I’m reading my new favoritest book: “The Art of Seduction”. Since the bus ride is long, I pull it out. “Pay attention to Detail” is the chapter I am on. I read, temporarily distracted by some drama as a French woman gets on the bus and holds up the line because she doesn't know what the driver is asking her about her senior citizen discount, finally, he just tells her $1.20, then to the fat girl behind her that speaks French. The girl translates then immediately puts her head down and looks like she really thinks that she can squeeze by into a seat through the 2 inches to spare in the bus stairwell. I stare for a while mildly confused at the comotion, then go back to reading, and actually wonder if the republican that is sitting next to me has glanced down at my book? I caught him looking at me earlier and had moved only to recognise the right wing in his reading material. I wonder if he sees the word seduction on my pages, I wonder what he must think? The bus stops, and I get off at Columbia road.

On the way down 18th street I bump into a guy I have seen around town, he's a bouncer at various establishments.. He starts chatting it up with me, talking about his new business, oh, I am a graphic designer huh? He might need a new logo, and I politely nod and look contemplative, but am really thinking that I'd better get down the street, or else I am going to miss him again. It's already 7 30, and the Banana Hammock is evasive as it is. Scribble some contact info down and move on.

I make my way up to Angles, a bar I've never been to. I see him right as I walk through the door, and smile at him. He smiles back, but then abruptly stops, looks confused. I stick out my hand and tell him my name. Recognition registers, and he scoots over a stool to let me sit down. I do.

I am struck by how different he seems in front of me. I think that the main factor is that he is slightly effeminate; people think he's gay but he's not. (Rather obviously). Also, it goes without saying, he is quirky. We talk about his job. We talk about his ads. We talk about my book (he's read it). His features are wide, distict. He is not conventionally handsome. But something in his movements is interesting. Online he does seem like the super packed swoon inducing ultra witty kinda guy, and in person by contrast, he is a little internally oriented. His body language is slightly defensive, almost shy. But even more interestingly, his eyes tell a lot. There is very little self doubt. He obviously knows he's smart. Behind his glasses they are calculating, when he takes them off, they are intellectually intense. What's most fascinating to me is the knowledge that endlessly entertaining posts have come from the mind behind these eyes, and that almost all of them are rather true. He asks about my red pants. I tell him its because I am on fire.

Three, four, five beers later, they start to play that gorillaz song. Then they play Venus on a Mountaintop. I start dancing in my chair... and then he does too. Whatever I do, he mimics, slightly awkwardly. Its endearing. I try to squash the emotion quickly. Stoppit, I tell him. You're doing that thing they talk about in the book... He denies it.

Then he tells me that he is suprised at me in person, as compared to online. Pleasantly suprised. Of course I am pleased to hear it. "Yeah," he says. "Yeah... I'd make out with you." I raise my eyebrow at this. And of course I start thinking about it.

"Are you any good at it?"
"Wanna try me?" He leans in at me. I dodge him. Laughing.

"Not sure yet. But good to know."

And we dance some more, in our chairs.

At this point, I don't know if it was just that I'd had enough to drink, or what was going on, but it was that famous moment when you're out with someone that things just shift. Just click into place in a certain way, and the whole evening turns out a lot differently than you expected it would. When did we start kissing? I don't remember. But it was in the bar... And I remember a vague second when I was aware of it, 'Hello... I am kissing in a bar. There are a lot of people around." But for the most part, for the rest of the uhhhm 15 minutes we must have been completely making out, I didn't notice much but his mouth. His tongue, his teeth. And I remember the fact that he had a lot of saliva, big mouth, but good, erm, decent kisser. Was it the beer? I don't know. I just remember wiping my mouth of excess saliva and saying, "not bad." And then leaning in for more.

So now, he's looking ready to go.. we had settled up the bill a while ago.. and he says something about continuing this at this apt. I look at him. Is Mr. Banana Hammock inviting me to his apt? It seems like he is. Yes, he does it again. He is. I am way too curious to turn him down. And we set off. Wading through the zoo of Adams Morgan, I get a falafel, but he doesn't, he wants his Friday night cheesesteak. Walking along, dodging bargoers, trying hard to inhale my falafel before it falls apart in my hands. I'm sure it was really hot. On the way he says that he's really glad he cleaned his apt.

And in no time we are at the "Adams Morgan compound". And we drink some more beer, and watch kids in the hall. It was so Funny.. he was so funny, everything about him was interesting, different. And I was laughing a lot. So much that my face started hurting. I must've been drunk. I remember thinking, good I am drunk. This is fun. Let me drink some more. And in between cigarettes and kids in the hall, we were kissing. Kissing and kissing. Laughing and kissing. So lovely a time. For a moment, I wonder how I got here, and for a moment, I feel secluded from the world in this foriegn space, drinking it in, the skylights in the kitchen, the bookshelves, the books on them. The way the furniture was arranged. The ipod. Etc.

I know that I had this all so casually. I certainly had no intention of getting terribly hot and heavy with Mr. Banana Hammock, much less start thinking about even more than that. And then he asks me to stay. I don't think he means it, but I think I was also unaware of how tired he was. He says it a few more times, like he was convincing himself that he wanted me to stay, I think.. but at that point I was so tired that I was happy for the opportunity to not have to trek back home. So I did.

And the funny part of this was that the ending you think you'll get did not happen. At this point, I almost feel like not writing anymore. No one got laid. Not even a lot of action, most of the night we slept. The energy grew more and more funny for me (alcohol was wearing off obviously) as morning hit and then took over. But a few interesting things happened that I'd like to make note of:

Unlike most men I have been in bed with, he did not make excessive passes at me. He didn't make like he was desperate to fuck right now, and he hardly touched me. But when he did, it was exactly exactly what I wanted. It was exactly how I wanted to be touched.

He slept with his back to me, spooned in me. I don't think I have ever seen a guy do that. But it was comfortable.

I hardly ever reach out toward a man's penis. I am most comfortable when they don't even make me aware of it. But at some point when we were sleeping, I did. And not only did I reach down, but I held him. He had girth. And for the time period that I spent touching him, through fabric, holding him, I got terribly turned on. So much so that I had to stop myself and turn around. This hardly ever happens to me. Not only that, but I returned a few more times. Always brief, but still, a crazy and uncommon phenomenon.

In the middle of the night, I woke up, and he was terribly sweaty. Curiously he wouldnt take off his shirt. Then I got up to get some water, and go to the restroom. In his soapdish, he has a bar of soap with a hveinedd viened eyeball in the middle of it. This is quite a startling thing to discover at around 4 am. I returned to bed, but the sweat didn't bother me so much. A few hours later, he'd cooled off. His t-shirt said, "This ain't no disco." Funny. Little. Quirky. Things.

Finally, hello... I was in bed with Mr. Banana Hammock. I think I repeated this to myself at least 3 times that nite. It was like being in bed with a celebrity.

Then light hit, and I found myself tired and disoriented from being somewhere other than my own bed.. but I wasn't sure how to excuse myself. Also, I kinda didn't want to yet. Sometimes I just like to spend several hours with someone, learn them all at once. We smoked a cigarette then went to bed for a while longer, and this time just talked. He told me about his family. His sister, about his neices. It was comfortable, and nice... but I really wondered if he liked me at all, or what.. Men usually touch me alot, but he hardly did, it was me touching him, and usually I hardly do. I usually just wait to observe how they work it out. But still nothing, even though I was topless. It was very curious. And through it all I just don't know how much I liked him, but I never know these things...

Finally, some cranberry juice and several cigarettes later, I was out the door, with anawkwardt akward kiss in the elevator, and one almost miss outside the door. I felt slightly disoriented, grimy and tired. Headed towards tryst to get some coffee.. and bought a shirt from the mexican discount store on way bc I was so over my shirt.

But fuck! How cool is that? Mr. Banana Hammock. And I met him.