Thankful...But Paranoid

I was going to write a lame post on Thursday, enumerating the things for which I am thankful, and inviting y'all to do the same. Instead, I got out of work early, cooked a turkey, had some friends over, and went out. I'm going express some gratitude anyway, and it may still be lame, but at least it's now part of a racier post.

I am, of course, most thankful for my family and friends, notably the two who joined me for dinner at my house Thursday. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday (I like it even better than Christmas), so I was distraught at the idea of spending it by myself. As we all know, I am also thankful for my car, and thankful that no one broke into it Thursday night. I am going to stop the gratuitous use of "thankful" now, because it's getting annoying. I'll just get to the story.

After dinner, one of my friends and I took our extra pumpkin pie to The Mix. While waiting for our names to come up on the pool list and our songs to come up on the jukebox, we tried to get first place on as many video games as possible. Another friend joined us, and later convinced me (it wasn't hard) to go over to Badlands. A few drinks and a couple of walk-arounds later, I met an absolutely gorgeous guy -- cute accent, model's face, athlete's body. All of which joined me in a cab home a little later.

It was a little weird at first -- he asked me to shave when we got back to my place. I hadn't been planning to go out, so I didn't get all gussied-up, and apparently my face was a little abrasive. Then he wanted to eat, so I heated up Thanksgiving leftovers (and Mexi-Minis) for him. Then he became the hottest male to ever share my bed. (Well, actually the second hottest; however, Number One crawled in to get warm and make sure I didn't aspirate. Thanks, hon.) For better or worse, he left later that night in a cab, about which I always feel a little bad.

For those wondering about the title of this post, here's where the paranoia starts. I woke up late Friday, and said to myself:

"Self, what was a guy that gorgeous doing coming home with you?"

Like most rhetorical questions, this one should have gone unanswered. But nooooo, I actually thought about it. At the top of the list was the possibility that he wanted to steal something, since I had probably mentioned my occupation at some point. This led to a frantic search for my wallet, keys, phones, and computers. All of which were there. In fact, in checking my wallet and recollection, I'm pretty sure he didn't even take the cash I had offered for the cab home (North Beach/Russian Hill is a bit of a haul for most Castro-goers). Then I felt bad for thinking that way about him. So am I:

a) normal
b) a freak, but appropriately suspicious for this part of the gay life
c) paranoid and in need of an SSRI
d) just plain hopeless
e) all of the above

(You'll notice "a consumer of too much alcohol" is not an option. I don't need the blogosphere for that answer -- that's why God created sisters-in-law, and I'm thankful she cares, even if she drives me nuts.)

Feel free to log your vote, or leave any post-Thanksgiving shout-outs.

I'll wrap up the gratitude with these. I'm thankful that there are so many decent guys (and a few ladies) hanging out in the Castro, and I'm thankful to one gorgeous guy in particular for a great night.