Last night, a Grindr user “NiceNormal91” messaged me “How are you?” and I’m still shook. If I wasn’t so bogged down by this four-day, Alien-meets-industrial-revolution orgy I’ve been planning for months, I would’ve gone straight to the police to report this heinous monster to the proper authorities, or at least my psychiatrist to score some more Xanax.

Just thinking back on it, there were so many red flags. It was as if this deviant behavior was premeditated.

Okay, wait, if you’re gonna come in, you’re going to have to undress, got it? I don’t make the rules.

It’s 2018, for Christ’s sake! Gay men don’t deserve this kind of Spanish Inquisition into our lives.

Okay, so first off, let’s start with the obvious: he messaged me at 7:30 pm on a Friday. Already a red flag. Social norms dictate that Grindr messages sent on weekends can only be sent between the hours of 11:30 pm and 5:30 am. There is another window of acceptable activity between 7:00 am and 10:00 am for men to help each other overcome what is clinically-referred to as “morning wood.” But this queen did not stick to the societally-agreed-upon protocol. Like at all!

Bongo, can you see if Postmates can deliver us some more poppers?

…Yeah, we’ve got ten more coming and Duncan is constipated upstairs. I think it was the Italian food he ate during the 30-minute break. This is why we don’t take breaks!

Anyways, where was I…

Oh, yeah, NiceNormal91!

Okay, so his profile picture contained his face and showed him completely clothed. His interests did not include “sucking cock,” “fucking,” or even “being a good boy for daddies” but rather “fishing, football, poetry, and seeing my family.” I had to screenshot the whole thing and pass it around to everyone here. Well, technically we gave the phone to Marcus and just passed him around, but you get the point. Everyone was horrified! We all agreed we needed to get this man off the streets.

Once we passed around his picture, other folks started recognizing him. Stefan said he got a message from NiceNormal91 one time that said, “What do you do for work?” And Vivek was asked, “How was your Thanksgiving?” That constitutes a pattern of behavior signaling a disturbed individual at work, and at some point you can’t rehabilitate them.

I’m not saying he deserves life in prison, but we need him off these city streets. It’s 2018, for Christ’s sake! Gay men don’t deserve this kind of Spanish Inquisition into our lives. Can’t we just host an ornately decorated, well-themed, drug-infused disco sex party in peace without the dread of finding another horrifying message on our Grindr accounts asking questions like, “Is there a face to go with your torso?” Like, HOW DARE YOU!

Then Walter made a good point too while he was in me that I hadn’t even thought of because I was so traumatized by the ordeal: NiceNormal91 typed out the entire “How are you?” instead of abbreviating “hru.” He even included punctuation. Nobody in their right fucking mind uses a question mark on Grindr. That is evidence of a sick, disturbed individual!

I didn’t block him for a few hours because I was still naively hoping he was going to follow that message up with a dick pic, or simply drop a pin to his exact location like anyone normal guy would. Then I could’ve just invited him over. But he turned out not to be nice or normal, a complete misnomer.

Like millions of other men across the world, I’m a Grindr user so I can suck cock without my wife knowing. I didn't sign up to answer personal questions like “How are you?” I’ve never felt so unsafe in my own home—no, Teshawn, we don’t use condoms here. Get that shit out of here! It’s the honor system and if you don’t trust us, you can do what Billy Joel did and MOVE OUT!!

Geez, some people.

Listen, I’ve got to join in this threeway in the corner. Feel free to make yourself at home. If you ever find this son of a bitch though, please let us know so we can all give him the side eye during brunch, or better yet, ask him how he’s doing. See how he likes it.