It’s 11:18 pm again—for the third time this week—as Tommy is walking out in the cold. He steps on his own shadow as it stretches across the sidewalk. He wishes he could kick it in the face the way he is kicking himself inside. He isn’t doing anything wrong, but he still feel as though he may be making a mistake. A half an hour ago he was at home and bored and feeling alone so he reached for his phone and started cruising the apps guys use to meet guys, the same way a lot of guys do and are doing right now. He knew he should just have gone to bed. He wasn’t looking for sex, but he wanted company, contact, a reminder that he was desired. He scrolled through the photos of faces and body parts as if it were a menu. His phone chimed repeatedly as guys tried to get his attention with sweeping introductions such as “Hey” and “What’s up?” There was finally one guy who caught his eye. A 28-year-old hipsterista-looking guy who lived on the other side of Boystown. So Tommy sent him a message. “Hey man, how are you?” Not his best line, but the guy answered back. They did the procedural exchange of pictures and pleasantries, the cyber mating dance of the modern gay male. The guy was cute and kind of funny and looking for someone to hang out with. So here Tommy goes again. Out into the freezing winter night to meet up with a stranger. Not even a Facebook friend, a stranger. Tommy didn’t fool himself into thinking that this was a date or that this could be the one. These things never worked out for him. One time the guy he met just kept telling him how hot he was over and over and over again until Tommy was so turned off that he wanted to run out the door. Another time the guy was at least fifty pounds heavier than the picture he used in his profile and said “I want you to breed my ass” when he opened the front door. Tommy did turn around and left that time. He knew that hooking up like this was like ordering Chinese food from a place you have never been before. You don’t know what you are going to get, it probably isn’t very good, and you are just going to be hungry again later. Yet here he goes. Was this insanity, Trying the same thing again and again hoping for a different result? Or was it just his loneliness taking him over? I mean if he just wanted sex he could go to a bar or bathhouse and pick up someone. So is this laziness? Getting human contact without getting to know the person: It may seem like it would spare him from any emotional impact, but it doesn’t. He usually ends up just feeling more alone and a bit, well, icky. Tommy reaches the guy’s house before he answers any of his own questions. He stares at the buzzer. His hesitation says it all, but he’s not sure if he will listen. He could send the guy a message and cancel this whole thing. He could head home before the guy knew he was there. Or he could go for door number one, get inside and out of the freezing air and feel the touch of someone else’s hands. Tommy felt like a delivery boy and he was the entrée. Is this what he really wanted? He finally makes a decision and takes a deep breath of cold air. Then the door in front of him swings open. So now what?