Monday, December 19, 2011


When two men decide to share their lives together they have to remember that when it’s all said and done, they are men. And men have needs.

Every gay couple must have “the talk” to discuss the level of boundaries that they are going to allow in the relationship. Whether they base their relationship on monogamy, some level of quiet openness, play only as a couple, or totally open. They say that “open” relationships take the most amount of trust and faith in the solidness of your partner and the foundation of the relationship. I believe that any level of spending your life with someone will take the same amount of trust.

I hesitate to refer to these differing types of relationships as layers, yet I believe that the next layer to relationships would be a Triad. Having more than one intimate relationship at a time with the knowledge and consent of everyone involved. Insert gay Mormon joke here.

I am not opposed to triads. Although I can barely remember one birthday card, and shopping for two Christmas presents might send me over the edge. Not to mention that I  already sleep on the edge of the mattress because of bossy dog that takes most of the bed's prime real-estate, I’m not sure how I feel about another person.

I’m rambling on about this because as of Friday night at 9:00 PM I was thrust unknowingly into a triad relationship. The new addition is a muscle brute named RT. The other half, my other half brought a 2012 Dodge Challenger Classic into our happy home.

How can I compete for attention?

Saturday early; I’m pulled from my book and coffee for a ride in RT. As we race endlessly up and down the empty streets in our fictional town, the “other half” says, “I so love you!” “Ah, I love you to.” I say as he strokes the six gear shift knob. “You do? You really love it as well?” He half-heartedly asks as he downshifts.

“Take me home.” I flatly respond.

Can three-way relationships really work? I ask, as my two other parts of my triad plan on discarding all Christmas storage to make more room in the garage for the love fest.


BosGuy said...

Sounds like the new love really gets his juices flowing.

Perhaps you should make noises like "vroom vroom" the next time you have him change your oil. :-0

Homer said...

Not to ruin his buzz, but the dowdy 50-something officer manager at work just bought one too.

Erik Rubright said...

Ooh... pretty.

Were you saying something?

Wonder Man said...

nice, just remember not to get jealous

Dale W. said...

Three words for you, my love.





Blobby said...

oh bud, you CANNOT compete. You are fucked.

Pac said...

I don't think you have to compete. I always considered a sports car to be a symbolic, compensatory accessory. Like a codpiece, or an iPad. At least for men. I don't yet have a theory why dowdy middle-aged women drive RTs.