Sexual Politics

I’m in Washington for work for the next 3 weeks. I’m living in a Hotel, albeit a nice hotel. Last night, the hotel hosted to The Madison Awards (no relation), which celebrate a select few Washingtonian socialite do-gooders charity deeds. Because I am a guest at the hotel I was invited to the dinner reception last night. Being starved for social interaction, I actually went. I struck up a conversation with a dapper gentleman at the bar. He is a lobbyist for the Environmental Defense Fund and is a whopping 26 years old. His resume is quite impressive. Georgetown undergrad double major in French and foreign relations and a masters degree in public policy. He was well groomed, obviously socialized and like me, could carry on a conversation with the devil himself. Anyone who knows me and my taste would understand that this is a walking wet dream realized.
As I typically do in these sorts of situations, I search for clues in the conversation that may point to his sexual orientation. Not that it mattered, but I certainly do enjoy a challenge. Washington typically turns out a bunch of undetectable gays who live entirely different lives during the daylight hours and like Cinderella, they turn ‘interesting’ at the stroke of midnight. My good friend and ex big political Washingtonian tells me that he believes that over 50% of the hill is closeted gay. Given the social and political backstabbing that’s required to survive here, it doesn’t come as a surprise. Keeping all of this in mind, I proceed with caution in my incognito interrogation.

Jason: “Are you married?”
Mr. Debonair: “No I’m not”
Jason: “I bet it’s hard to find dates who aren’t interested in your political pedigree in Washington”
Mr. Debonair: “Yeah that’s true. It’s not hard to get laid in this town, but forget finding a relationship that’s worth-a-damn”
Jason: “Do lobbyist date each other?”
Mr. Debonair: “Some, I’ve never dated a lobbyist”
Jason: “Me either” (Insert courtesy laugh here)
Mr. Debonair: “Where are you staying in Washington?”
Jason: “I’m here at The Madison”
Mr. Debonair: “Ahh cool, are the rooms nice?”

Ok so at this point I knew I could take this conversation in 1 of two directions… (1.) Invite him to see my room (2.) Simply answer the question……..Which did I choose?

Jason: “The rooms are nice, but not 350.00 a night nice. “
Mr. Debonair: “Oh, ok. I’ve always wondered what they were like here”

At this point im thinking, Is he fishing for an invite or just making small talk? Im lost, getting nervous and I decide to take the higher road and switch the topic to March Madness which could go nowhere interesting in record time. And for the record that’s exactly where it went.
Moving on, I commingled with some other people, made some interesting small talk, drank a glass of wine and started heading out the door. I looked for Mr. Debonair before I walked out and couldn’t find him. I rounded the corner and there he was at the elevator with another gentleman from the reception, on his way up to ‘see his room’.

I’m clearly not very good at sexual politicking.