Is Tina Home?

I'm a handsome, young, single gay guy. This past weekend, I met an incredibly handsome guy. After chatting for a bit, we wound up back at my place. I was really turned on by him and he seemed to feel the same way. We had nasty, soul-wrenching, kinky, scream-out-loud sex for hours. I was in heaven. My neighbors were banging on the ceiling. I even told him that I loved him.

In fact, I was doing quite a few things that were out of character for me. Except I didn't realize that they were odd until the next day. After we started making out and saying filthy stuff to each other, he pulled out a pipe and we both smoked what I thought was some coke. We had kinky, delicious sex. We said things to each other that made our hearts sing. The next morning I was still so horned up that I had to relieve myself a couple of times before work. At work, my productivity was zero-all I could think about was this guy. He was definitely not a normal trick. I felt like I had met somebody special and totally tuned in to me.

I sent him an email from work and our lusty conversation continued via computer. He was really eager to see me again and I felt the same way. Then I got an avalanche of digital pics of him in my inbox-sexy beefcake shots-even a photo of his boots ("you were licking these last night!"). He had called in sick and told me he wanted me so bad-could we get together that night? At this point, I started to realize that something was very wrong. Nobody had ever behaved this way. I had never behaved this way.

After a few more email exchanges, I asked him if it was Tina we'd been smoking last night? He said yes and asked me what sort of drugs I normally do when I have sex.

None, I thought to myself. I realized that I was still a little high from what I now knew was crystal meth and that he was probably at home smoking a whole bunch more. I didn't answer his question. Instead, I called him about an hour later to say that I couldn't see him that evening because I was exhausted and we would catch up later in the week. But the horny emails didn't stop coming: "Awwww-just a little hookup? Please!"

Now that I've had some rest and gotten the drug out of my system, I feel very differently about this guy. I no longer want to see him again. I've had friends whose once vibrant lives have been totally demolished by crystal meth and now I understand exactly how that could happen. I've never taken a drug that is so seductive and potentially addictive-and made me so horny and responsive to my partner. Nor do I feel it was very cool of him to just hand me a pipe and not tell me what it was. Granted, I didn't ask. I was drunk and having incredible sex with this handsome guy. I wonder what else he's not telling me, like his HIV status (we played safely).

My question for you is, should I be brutally honest with my hot date about why I'm not interested in seeing him again? Or should I just let it slide?

-Charley

I know this is a serious issue, but I couldn't help but think back on the last time I did speed (years ago, ingested orally). Far from banging some handsome stranger all night, I alphabetized and organized my apartment within an inch of its life. We're talking sweaters next to Sweet 'n' Low, Oxford New English Dictionary shoved on the shelf next to the Oxy-Clean. I still sometimes find Vicodins mixed in with the video collection.

But we're not here to talk about how remarkably dull I am. It sounds like you're experiencing a big fat case of buyer's remorse. You did something stupid and now you're cranky about it. I'm sure the bad attitude is exacerbated by the fact that you're in full-on crash mode right about now. Unfortunately, guilt and regret are the flipside of most uppers. What goes up must come down.

In a perfect world Timmy Trick would've told you what you were smoking was crystal, but it's not like smoking coke is exactly Sunday-school behavior, Cracky! He didn't put a razor blade in your apple; he substituted one illegal addictive substance for another. Shades o' gray, my friend.

Unlike a lot of guys who get so euphoric and fucked up that they eschew condoms, at least you retained the common sense to keep it wrapped. Bravo!

Having spent years surrounded by substance abusers (For work! It was my job!), I've found that people who do a lot of drugs are quite aware that they're taking a lot of drugs and tend to surround themselves with people who share their proclivities. It's no fun to shoot smack in front of a disapproving teetotaler. So sure, if it'll make you feel better you can inform Señor Speedfreak that the reason you won't be tonguing his boots (naughty!) again is because he's a big ol' Tina freak, but I doubt it'll have much effect on him or his bad habits.