Home-o Depot and it's Range -- Building a Foundation or Just Foreplay?

By J. Corbett Holmes
Illustration by Robert Best

“Do you wanna' go to Home Depot today?” Joey asked. As he rolled his hunky body into mine, sinking his head in the crook of my underarm. We'd only been seeing each other a short time, and as we huddled in bed together, with the possibilities of the day before us, the incongruity of the situation struck me as oddly quaint. It was an appealing question to consider, as I already had power tools and drilling on the brain. I knew I wanted to continue the day together, and I did need a few things at Home Depot. So why not? I thought. But as I hammered various scenarios through my head (sexual and otherwise), there was something I just couldn't paint over!

Was this how middle-aged gay men gave it up? By offering inclusion into the normality of their day-to-day errands? Then I wondered, “Does building a mature (gay) relationship together start with things like, say, trips to Home Depot?”

With adolescence, we often carried books, shared lunch money or hiked that extra few blocks after school -- when a crush was involved. (I gave away my mothers opal and diamond cocktail ring.) And more times than not, as we grew, we relentlessly reorganized our (gay) closets while trying to figure out how and who to date. As we enter our 20s and even 30s, dating (for most) is often spent out on the town, discovering ourselves among the vast and varied choices of the relationship ranks. And during that period, when and if we were home, that time was frequently spent in bed, in continuum of said “town-time”! But, as we arrive at our 40s and 50s, we're usually looking to settle down and build something significant -- hopefully incorporating all our past experience “tool.” So his question made me wonder: To nail the perfect partner and build a dream-house together, are trips to Home Depot foundation building or just foreplay?

In the weeks that followed, Joey and I shopped for and moved a sofa for him, hung out hanging drapes for me, deliberated over decorating details, pondered over paint chips, forged through the flea market for furniture, and made frequent excursions to OSH hardware store and, naturally, Ikea. Within the aforementioned outings, we debated, exchanged, challenged and at times, disagreed about various things. Throughout all of this, to his credit, he was constantly changing my decrees on decorating as well as my view of him, and most interestingly...myself!

Having someone to partner with and participate in my day-to-day household chores made the doldrums of domesticity for this Home Depot homo happy times. I cannot explain it, but there was something both revealing and intimate about our trips to Home Depot. Through those excursions, it allowed me to nail down certain things. For example: You can very quickly surmise a person's taste, patience level and vision for life, and how they choose to approach it, all by how they manage their home. Joey, unlike most of my past relationships, is what I like to call the “straight-gay.” With ease he is able to manipulate even the most intimidating power tools (which can really come in hand-y for countless household needs), while embracing a stylish vision for the outcome of any project he takes on. So our shared “outings” to Home Depot became like having a date with HGT -- mixing a little curb appeal (his body), hammered together with a smattering of Divine Design (our projects), and finishing it all off with a Designer's (dating) Challenge. (Those were the times when we held a contradictory vision for the outcome of a particular household project). To someone 20, or even 30, all this may seem too quaint or perhaps even boring, but oddly, I grew to really adore our “building” time....not to mention Joey.

Then one day it happened! A real date! Our course for the day would be the usual: another trip to Ikea, meandering through Marshall's and finishing with a few small furniture shops in Long Beach. But...the close of the day would be different. We would have a “real” date: a Bangles concert! And, because we were having what was deemed a “real” date, I felt compelled to ask him his thoughts on our decorator-style of dating.

Once we'd piled in the car, I decided to ask him. “So...what do you think about our kind of dates?” He smiled, looking over toward the passenger seat while the Bangles chirped out a remake of a Mamas and the Papas song, beautifully serenading my question. “What do you mean? He asked. “Welllll...I donno' know, I guess...” I stared out the window at the passing landscape. A large billboard boasted the perfect payment plan from a roadside car dealership -- not the sign I needed. Our relationship was a novel situation, and I wanted to construct the question properly.

“Wellll...,” I began again, “We've never really gone on many ‘normal' dates, whatever that means. Aaaand ... I ... like the things we do together, bbbut ... well, I just wanted to know what you thought about it all?” And with that -- the reason I was so attracted to him -- he counters: “It's a better use of time! We can hang out together, and get stuff done!” There it was: simple, practical, and to the point, just like him and our time together.

As we sped down the 405, “Walk like an Egyptian” filled the car's atmosphere, causing me to further ponder the practicality of his answer. Like my earlier question regarding the unusual, albeit beautifully paved path of our relationship, were we building something exclusive and custom made? Or with each Home Depot date, were we just building a house of cards?

Although some (like myself) might consider our Home Depot outings non-dates, my insights from said excursions allowed me the ability to nail down certain features about our relationship -- romantic and otherwise. Oddly enough, there is something extremely intimate, even enticing, about working on your “house” with someone new. The storm shutters are opened, the welcome mat has been swept clean, and while the plumbing is getting used with more frequency, opened conversations about your/his “wiring” are often liberally discussed -- not to mention observed. And even when we're certain that the finishing touches, like the roof, would be better without, say, shingles, still the lights are on (naturally with dimmer switches), and the possibility of a home built by two always seems to have more curb appeal.

From my time with Joey, the thing I've learned (along with a few new Bangles songs) is that life in a relationship is generally filled with upgrades, renovations, and maintenence -- all in the name of building the perfect home-o home together. (Even if most states still don't want to acknowledge we have home-making interests.) But for those times when things don't work out, the learning still makes for enhanced resale value on an upgraded home-o.

So how many gay men does it take to screw in a light bulb? From what I've learned, that depends on the house! But probably several to shop for the perfect wattage and color of the bulb, a few more to decide on, and install the dimmer switch, and several more to pass out cocktails -- so the group can debate its glowing impact on the house!

For your shaving graces, e-mail me at shavingsfrommyhead@yahoo.com.