SGM Seeks LTR in NYC: How Do You Say Good-bye?

I saw him on the other side of the room.

He wasn’t supposed to be there. This was a mistake somehow. Deep down, I knew there was something wrong. Something out of sync. But there was no mistaking, as I gazed across the room, that it was him.

The Doctor.

But he was different. He wasn’t as he should be now, the new young face full of innocence. He looked like he did just before his last regeneration. A little older, face a little more lined with experience. The suit. Sneakers. Trench coat. And amazing hair.

Seeing him in front of me filled me up with so much emotion I thought I was going to burst. I knew he was here to set something right for me. I started walking toward him, and he opened his arms invitingly. I broke into a run, and before I knew it he was holding me.

Unable to stop myself, I kissed him fully on the mouth, and tearfully whispered, “I love you, Doctor …”

Okay, okay, okay. Don’t worry. This isn’t going to be one of my fantasy installments.

That was actually a dream I had last week. It’s funny how dreams affect you, especially the more vivid dreams that fill with you emotion that feels real. When I woke up, I was genuinely sad because I knew after I kissed him the Doctor was leaving, and through my tears, I couldn't bring myself to say good-bye … and then I remembered it was a TV show.

It’s possible I have Doctor Who on the brain.

I thought that was kind of a funny experience, so I told Rock Star about the dream, and he told me he had never seen an episode. What is it with the gays in this city? First Da Bunj never saw Glee and now this. Well, I had to do something about it.

"You don't understand. He's the Doctor. In all of human history, he's been there to help us along the way, to show us the best part about humanity: that just like his TARDIS we're bigger on the inside."

"That's what she said?" he ventured.

Sigh.

On Sunday of Labor Day weekend, Rock Star and I went to a party at his friend’s apartment in Brooklyn. Or, more accurately, on the roof of his friend’s apartment in Brooklyn. it was a good time, and the drinks were flowing … and flowing … and flowing still …

Yeah, that Monday? Not a good day for JT. There was a time when, after a night of drinking my weight in Irish car bombs, I could shake off a hangover by noon. These days? Eh, not so much.

Since I was pretty much incapacitated for the day, and Rock Star was in a state similar to me, if not quite as bad, we decided that this day would be the one that Rock Star learns just how damn sexy a centuries-old Time Lord could be. Throughout the day, in between massive amounts of water and just enough food to survive but not enough to induce projectile vomiting, we watched the first seven episodes of the 2005 season (or “series,” if you’re British) of Doctor Who. 

What he lacks in awesome hair, he makes up with a nose that'll cut a bitch. 

Christopher Eccleston played the Doctor in these earlier episodes, so Rock Star hasn’t yet borne witness to the magnificence of David Tennant’s Tenth Doctor, but he’ll get there soon, because I can tell you all that he is now firmly hooked. And if there’s one thing that turns me on, it’s a hot dude with geeky interests.

Unfortunately, Rock Star managed to squander a lot of that sexy cred in my eyes in the subsequent days.

But we’ll get there in a second.