The Benchmark Boyfriend – Part II | My Boyfriend Wears Flannel

One thing about being underwater in a swimming pool is how all your thoughts come inward as the focus comes onto you and no one else. If you open your eyes in a pool, it starts to sting a bit because of the chlorine and the view is kind of fuzzy if not muffled.

I’m so glad we’ve finally arrived.

This is going to be a great weekend.

One year older, one year wiser…

I better not drink too much.

I open my eyes seeing the sunlight emanating from the glass-covered roof above the pool playfully ripple along the ladder where Sydney’s legs climb up step-by-step.

Still holding my breath I push up from the bottom of the pool and get my head above water splashing Sydney in an annoying older brother sort of way.

“What you and Dominic were talking about in the car – I can’t say that I’ve had that yet. Well, not with a girl.”

Sydney has been out for just a couple of years. In the short period of coming out to her South Asian family she had matured fairly quickly having become very comfortable moving in her own skin. Yet, Sydney admits how her relationship experience is limited. She talked to me about how challenging it was to meet other lesbians in college as well as trying to reconcile her Sri Lankan-identity with her gay-identity observing that most of her other lesbian friends were white and from Seattle.

“How does your Mom feel about you dating other girls?” I ask.

“Oh, she’s cool with it. When I go out, she’s more concerned that I eat something because I’m so small.”

I laugh out loud having some insight to south Asian hospitality and culture. Sydney continues on with her satire about having a very petite frame letting me know the swimsuit she’s wearing was purchased from the children’s section at Macy’s.

“It would be fun to meet a cute girl. To have the female version of what Dominic had with Diego.”

Sydney meets eyes with me as if she knew in advance to preface the conversation –

“But not without the U-Haul?”

“Yes with the U-Haul, but way later!”

She splashes my face then swims away snickering.

Back up in the hotel room I’m putting on my shoes as Dominic has the blow-dryer going on in the bathroom with Sydney seated, relaxed in her “salon chair” ready to be coiffed.

“How much longer guys?”

Dominic snaps back at me in his diva-sort of way,

“She’s not ready yet. Hold on!”

He dabs his finger in a bit of pomade then gently massages it onto Sydney’s scalp away from her face. I walk over and Sydney is all in black with her hair slicked back. She looks like Trinity from The Matrix.

She wants to know how she looks.

“Expensive. You look like a million bucks, honey.” I assure her.

Coats. Keys. Wallets.

A couple moments later we’re street-level on our way to the Nines Hotel. I put my arm around Dominic’s shoulder. It’s part of our non-verbal walking-down-the-street and letting you know I’m glad you’re my friend communication.

When we arrive at the entrance, the valets who courteously pull open the doors greet our party. We’re directed to the elevators that only go up to the Departure Lounge. I peek at my iPhone making a mental note of the time. 630pm. Pre-dinner cocktails with a view is one item on the agenda I’d put together for the opening scene of this night out on the town.

Upon getting off on the top floor, I’m amazed at the modern, almost futuristic appointments of the entryway as the glow of soft pink-lit panels along the dark corridors illuminate the path to the outer rooftop.

Dominic takes the lead of our group with Sydney following suit. None of us say a word yet. We’re taking in the atmosphere. It’s a bit sexy, mysterious and definitely chic. I know for sure I’m experiencing something closer to Las Vegas than Portland. At the end of the hallway I can see a bar station with a pair of bartenders – a woman with Lisa Loeb eyeglasses and a man with red hair and freckles loading drinks on a tray. She smiles sweetly at Dominic who tells us to grab a seat outside on the roof.

I take note of the vodka selection informing Dominic I’ll opt for a dirty martini.

Sydney is poised against a leather chaise where another couple is just getting up. The place is packed and I can tell that Sydney is ready to pounce on the spot. Staring out from the roof I can only see silhouettes of the other bar patrons through my periphery as the glare from the setting sun infiltrates my vision despite the magnificent orange umbrella canopy setup above the patio furniture.

Sydney taps my shoulder as she sits down having now taken over the previously occupied spot. Once seated Dominic arrives with the drinks – a dirty vodka martini for me, a lemon drop for Sydney and a Manhattan for himself.

“Cheers!”

We raise our glasses and smile.

Dominic is emphatic,

“Happy Birthday!”

and clinks his glass against mine once more.
“You seemed a bit down earlier, I think it’s about time you had a drink!”

“Nah, I was just reminiscing with you guys in the car. Thanks for listening.” says Dominic.

I bring the conversation back to our dialogue earlier.

“I can totally relate to where you are coming from with the whole Benchmark Boyfriend thing. I’ve been there before… and also have one that got away.” I remark as I take a sip of the martini. Although I could taste the brine from the olives, my statement itself wasn’t to indicate I was salty from my past. Rather, I feel like the character of Calogero ‘C’ Anello from A Bronx Tale as his mafia-mentor Sonny tells it to him like this:

“You gotta do what your heart tells you to do. Let me tell you something’ right now. You’re only allowed three great women in your lifetime. They come along like the great fighters, every ten years. Rocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Robinson, Joe Louis. Sometimes you get’em all at once. Me? I had my three when I was 16. That happens. What are you gonna do? That’s the way it goes, you know? Tell you right now. See this girl? Maybe this girl, she put wind in your sails. Maybe she’s your first great one.”

Keeping a philosophy like this perhaps may be why I’ve been able to let go and move onward – the prospect of two other great ones out there can keep one optimistic I guess.

My eyes look up to Sydney as she sincerely asks to hear more about this one that got away. Not wanting to take the focus off Dominic I simply share with her,

“I think maybe he was one of my first great ones… I’ve got at least two more.”

Dominic looks at me and agrees –

“He better have been. We lost contact for more than two years when you were in the thick of it!”

Now, the subject of staying in touch with your social circle (once you’re in a relationship) is yet another story to be written, but in this moment I digress back to Dominic.

While we’re enjoying our cocktails as we kick back in this chic hotel I rally my drinking buddies to bounce off my ideas on “benchmarking”. On the one hand, I can definitely understand why that makes sense. You had something good. Now you know what IT looks like. I think the best way to understand it might be to look at it metaphorically.

I think for a majority of folks, it works like this:

You’re young and having your first couple of relationships. Not really knowing what you are looking for yet, you decide to feel these people out until you meet someone that is a fit. If you’re lucky enough, you end up falling in love. It’s a whole new experience for you because you’ve never ever had this before. The newness, the addictive effects of being in love wrap around you like a drug. Chemicals are secreting in your brain and you’re having these new sensations, which are highly pleasurable and fulfilling (besides the sex). As you spend more time with this person, these sensations heighten and heighten. You find yourself wanting to spend more time with them.

One day, for whatever reason, the relationship ends. But now, you’re used to the drug and need to get your fix. That person, or in my case, the guy that got away, is my first association with this feeling. Naturally, I’d be inclined to tell myself that this person is the only one who can ever make me feel that way again. And I’d believe this story I’ve told myself because the only evidence I have of ever achieving the love drug high was with my lover.

Hence we have a benchmark relationship. What also comes with this kind of particular relationship is all the things that make you and the other person a compliment for each other including love language/communication styles, sexual attraction and compatibility, introversion/extroversion, common interests as well as desire for wanting to be in the relationship at the same time (among the vast array of other complimentary factors) making it a great relationship.

As I convey my perspective, Dominic and Sydney have given both their respective cocktails and me full attention – they’re now empty. I’m about halfway done with my dirty martini when Dom lets us know it’s almost time for dinner. I gulp up the rest of my vodka and grab my coat. The three of us head down along the narrow corridor from the rooftop patio back to the elevators. While waiting, Sydney wants to get a couple of photos of Dom and I against the illuminated pink panels. Dominic is already posing in one of those illogical poses, which models who promote fragrances typically do.

Sydney eggs him on coaxing for more Le Tigre or Magnum. I retort asking him to give me his best ‘Old Spice’.

“Hey, I’m wearing Armani!” Dominic sasses back.

I believe I’m the only one who’ll be giving his best ‘Old Spice’ today. Once we reach the ground floor we’re back street-side with the valets who call us a cab already queued along the curb. We hop inside.

“Le Pigeon on Burnside.”

The cabbie nods his head. Sydney secures her belt in the front seat and moments later we’re off on the road. Portland is looking quite lovely this evening as the sun just set leaving a mauve-colored palette in the horizon.

I turn to Dom who is fidgeting, so I check to see what’s wrong.

“I just need my cigarettes.”

Taking his hand into my own, looking straight into his eyes I pledge that he’ll have more than enough time to smoke once we get to the restaurant.

He laughs because I don’t break character as I poke fun of an addiction other than the love drug, which of the two I’ve mentioned, is likely the only one that can be satiated tonight. The cab pulls up to the curb of the restaurant. Dom and I exit from the side door while Sydney pays the cabbie. It’s a much smaller place than I expected – less than 25 seats. Our party is only 3 and we have reservations so I’m not concerned. There is however, a short wait time as one party is just wrapping up on dessert.

“You can smoke while we wait, Dominic. In fact, let’s all wait outside.”

Sydney sits on the railing out front –

“So… a benchmark relationship is also like a drug, huh? Can I have some of that?”

She teases, but not really.

While Dominic is smoking Sydney wants me to elaborate. I oblige by telling them more about my thoughts on the subject.

It can be dangerous to compare each guy (or gal) that we date to our Benchmark Boyfriends. For one thing, they really aren’t the same person. The relationship is going to be totally different because not only is the next guy going to be different from your ex, but you will (hopefully) have evolved since the relationship ended as well. They are going to love you differently, hold you in another way, make and laugh at other jokes as well as react to things you say in a whole other way.

“They are even going to be different in bed!” Dominic shouts while exhaling a puff.

I leave both of them yet another kind of paradigm.

So… before we pull out a Tape Measure from our toolbox with the markings of past relationships to figure out if a guy is sizing up to our expectations, we can instead always be prepared like the motto of a good boy scout – we use our ‘Compass’ AKA Benchmark Boyfriend to help us know where we are and if we are in the vicinity of the right path when it comes to love. Then and only then should we decide to continue on with whomever we are with at the time.