Category Archives: Robert Kingett on LGBT Dating

The Target Employee

target gay lgbt employees

The Target store is a strange place. It does its very best to pretend it isn’t a corporation. There are no clerks perched at desk  saying “please hold” every few minutes as if they are auditioning to be an extra in a movie or sour-faced showgirls stacking shelves with garish products, hurrying along pretending they’re too busy to help you, no groaning rails or stacks of boxes that clutter the isles like an unkempt warehouse. Instead, it’s a store for the confused. Shoppers, usually pushing a stroller pass by wondering idly if they should get this kind of shampoo because their love interest saw the checkbook last month.

It is a Monday when I arrive at the Target store. I have a goal in mind, as every shopper has before they get sidetracked by the deals Target displays like a new kind of cure for cancer. I am here to get some clothes and some electronics, and I will not be distracted by anyone or anything in this store. I want to get back in my warm apartment and continue bonding with my email client before I bond with my Microsoft Word document and then my Netflix account. I make my way to a place that I have to go to before anywhere else; the customer service desk so I can have an employee guide me around the store.

See what happens next….

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Gay Dating Nightmares

  GAY DATING NIGHTMARES – 

we all have had them! 
Check this out, by guest author Robert Kingett….

THE FAIR FAN

Text can show a lot of things about a person. When someone sends an email, it shows the reader three very important traits.

How articulate they are. Email requires thought in order to expand on
thoughts and if the message is short then the person can’t even think
their way out of a shirt.

Effort. If the person writes a long message then the person has a lot
of diligence and it shows that he can stay on task and get things done.

How deep their head goes. A long email shows more than what they want
to reveal, such as how deep their well is for example. Short messages
usually translate into “there’s a lot of hot air in this blimp”

But Email can’t show you everything about a person and this is why
that initial phone call is important. This next contestant in my quest
to find my forever catches me on a Sunday.

Sundays are dangerous days for me, but not nearly as dangerous as my
wandering fingers when I’ve exhausted all work and have no video games
to play. My boredom, or hormones, finds me goggling at brown abs and
bulging arm muscles in the wee hours of the afternoon. I’m looking at a
stomach the color of brown sugar pulsating with biceps when a message
flies into my dating inbox. It’s very rare this happens so I eagerly
click into the message. The spelling and grammar is as flawless as a
tax-free society but the message is very short – waving red flags at me
that I don’t see.

“Hi. My name is Jason. I recognize you. You’re a journalist. Love
your work. I want to chat more, Babe. Is that okay? Please say yes. I
think we should. I think that’s fair.”

I can hear the eagerness behind his message so I check him out. His
face is brown, as I hoped it would be, and it sports a smile that’s
brimming on being cute. He has a balled head, and I can see that he’s 10
years older than me. His smile is wide though and this tells me that
there are guys who enjoy having fun outside of the bedroom. Because the
fridge is being unusually quiet tonight I dish out my cell number like
it’s a lottery ticket and wait for the winning call.

Not even a minute later my phone vibrates. I answer it almost
expecting Denzel Washington to greet me and propose but what meets my
ear is a husky mesh of needy and overwhelming clinginess. There’s also
slurring in his voice that I don’t pay attention to because it’s deep,
and a baritone always gets me going. The pleasantries are out of the way
very quickly and we know a bit about each other. Before long, we’re
discussing what kinds of sexual acts we like to do, and then we focus on
each other and what we’d do to one another.

The entire time this is happening I try and throw in questions where
he’ll have to give me a detailed answer but he somehow doesn’t hear them
and proceeds to tell me what an inspiration I am with a slur behind a
few syllables. I notice how frequently the slur happens. A lull in the
conversation comes when he admits that he’s not a man’s man. He also
keeps asking me if random points he’s made are fair, like we’re having
an argument over the remote and he needs Jerry Springer to tell me that
he knows the buttons better than I do.

“Really?” I say, not shocked at all given the way he’s been telling me that I’m good looking for the past 45 minutes.

“Yeah. I’m not a mankind of guy. I don’t attract them very much. I want to listen to you more. Is that fair?”

I don’t understand the question but I plow on before I idly remember
that I really should be turning in for the night because I have an
important meeting to get to in the morning.

“That’s a definite shame. I hate to be a prude, but, I have a meeting
I have to get to in the morning and I need my sleep.” The reply slams
into my ear with quick bursts of syllables, as if he’s dying and my
voice is a resuscitator.

“Listen, babe… I know you don’t like me, and I get it, no one does,
but please baby, I want to talk some more. I think you’re hot! Just stay
and talk. I want to talk. Is that fair?”

“It’s not you. I don’t think you understand that I have a meeting in
the morning that I can’t sleep through.” There’s a heavy sigh on the
other end, followed by the unmistakable swigging of a bottle. I then
realize that he’s been drunk this entire conversation. I make even
louder noises about having to go, but the crying reply makes me stop and
gape.

“Please… baby, I’m an alcoholic, I get it, but I think that we
deserve to talk things over, is that fair? Is that fair? I mean, we’ve
both been alone so…” there’s another swig. “We need to cuddle with one
another.”

“You know what? I agree!” I gaily squeal, and begin doing a Google
search on my computer. The slur is emphasized as he asks me where I
live. I tell him the address to Alcoholics Anonymous in Chicago, and I
give him their number instead of mine – he’s forgotten mine already.

“Please call me tomorrow baby. I love you.” I say, hanging up the
phone knowing that I will never hear from this diplomat again. Given the
last hour, I’d say that’s pretty fair.

Read  more  from  Robert Kingett!

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Gay dating: The succulent surprise

  GAY DATING  with  Guest Author Robert Kingett 

 Clocks. All they do is tick and make people fret. I’ve been waiting for the latest contestant in the endless game show that is my dating life to turn up. I don’t believe in fashionably late – stylish punctuality is much more my kind of thing – and tardiness should always be explained with a conciliatory text or even a phone call. So far, nothing.

As I’m waiting many things become apparent to me. Its two minutes past the meeting time. I should never arrive first on a date. I should have brought an iPod so that I could read while he grips me in suspense. When I check my cell again its six minutes past the appointment time. With each cast of my baby blues I notice that the original appointment time creeps further away like a detoured fox.
I have to say that I didn’t expect to be waiting on this dashing dude wishing that I had brought my iPod. His profile drew me with quotes from S, E. Hinton and fervent affirmations about is point of view on misogynistic literature. I messaged him eagerly ready to break out the tea bags and sit in front of the screen ready for an intellectual massage. When I click on the send message button it is his picture that makes my mouth salivate. I’m a teenager again as my one good eye stares at a body that’s too good to be true. Taking up the length of the frame and only a fraction of the width, a slightly muscular beanpole stands beside a pool of bubbling water with a face that looks as if it’s been specifically designed to be sexy, cute, and friendly at the same time, sporting a smile that could inspire paintings. Black as the ace of spades, I can see that he easily stands at six feet tall. His eyes are wide and inviting and I can even see them in the picture, something I’m rarely able to do. I suddenly remember what I’m supposed to be introducing and write something about myself, preying to the gay gods that he writes me back with something fresh and vibrant and containing substance… and more pictures.
Read what happens next!
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Blindness doesn’t stop Robert Kingett from becoming a Digital Journalist

 Our new guest author Robert Kingett was featured on Digital Journal this week, talking about how he hopes  his reporting will educate and inspire.

“I think that the biggest misconception people
have is that blind people sit in a corner and suck their thumb.”
Kingett, 24, says he is devoted to combatting that stereotype by being
an active reporter, studying journalism and writing articles on
DigitalJournal.com on accessibility issues.

Whatever doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger. That could be the motto for Kingett, a Chicago writer and LGBT activist who is no stranger to adversity.

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My gay dating Percentage…by Robert Kingett

My fingers hover over the keyboard, spread as if they are spiders who are confused on how to make a web.

I’m
resting at the forefront of my dating regime, at a desk in my apartment
trying to think of something about me that the members of this gay
dating site need to know. Ironically this part of the initiation is the
hardest.

The
signup was easy for my adaptive computer technology that robotically
tells me everyone’s messages, height, and weight. There weren’t any
words I had to type to verify my identity, there weren’t any
advertisements sprinkled into a profile detailing a guy who likes to
pretend to fly with toy airplanes. Everything is smooth like melted
butter until this part in the acquaintance, the about me.

My
thought process seems to have a planned detour; as if my brain schemed
how it was going to depart at the exact moment I need it to work its
magic. First, dictation, then there’s deliberation, then debating, then
dumbstruck diatribe. My fingers don’t move but deductions springs into
my mind like a sweptback gymnast.

People
will marvel at my eloquence for words upon first glance so this will
whisk me up to an 80% on the attraction slider. When they talk with me
verbally however, I’m sure the stammer will jab me down to 45%.

When
people read that I have a white cane my dating chances will shoot down
to 30%. I know this figure based on experience. To boost my score
perhaps I should entice them first with facts about my journalism work
where I detail LGBT news and issues, and couple that with my obsessive
love for mint chocolate chip ice cream and pony rides. If I do that my
percentage will shoot up to 45% because everybody loves chocolate ice
cream way before mint. 


Read more at Roberts blog!

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Robert Kingett – On Fifty Shades of Grey

GUEST  AUTHOR – ROBERT KINGETT

For those who don’t know me, and that would be a lot of you, I’m a
bibliophile. My vast array of bookshelves is stacked with dozens of
audio books, causing the shelf to topple over like a lopsided tower. I
love books, and I love the character developments, the plots, and
thriving stories hat books can hold between the spines. I’ve read some
amazing books, and then again I’ve read some books that I’ve never want
to speak of again because it leaves a bad ringing in my ears.


I
never usually get into erotica books, but with the eloquent urging of
all my hip unliterary friends I decided that I’d read fifty Shades of
Grey by E.L. James. I want to see just why this book is so very popular.
I get recommendations from people all the time on Goodreads, so why is
this book so popular? Is it the dashing romance, the zesty sex scenes,
or the riveting character depth? I don’t know.


Usually when I look
at a book, I look at the synopsis of the book to try and gage what I’ll
be in store for. I wonder what the back of this book says.


When
literature student Anastasia Steele goes to interview young
entrepreneur Christian Grey, she encounters a man who is beautiful,
brilliant, and intimidating.


Is it just me but after
twilight by Stephenie Meyer came out all the men seem to have the same
abusive controlling elements as Edward? I don’t know. This does sound
interesting though. Nothing about gay black men or even straight black
men for that matter. I’m sad now… I need Morgan freeman to hold me and
give me God powers. I need to have Denzel Washington wrap me up in a
nice bear hug and have his sexy new Yorkers voice put me to sleep with
him reading my Miranda rights…


“You have a right to have sex wit
me. Anyting you say will get me hard and then I’ll have to arrest you
with my passion… anyway… Let’s keep reading!

READ THE  FULL   ANALYSIS  HERE!

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Meet Robert Kingett – Our new guest author who talks about being Blind, Gay and Dating!

Do you ever stop and think about those who are less fortunate than us?  Those who have a harder life than us? Those who may face challenges?  Do you ever give gratitude and thanks for the life you are living?

Meet Robert Kingett: Watching Robert walk into his local Chicago college with his red and white cane isn’t amazing.
What is amazing, however, is listening to the story of struggle to success that he so captivatingly tells as a motivational speaker.
Today he is an honors student at The City College of Chicago getting his general transfer degree. He has been on the Deans’ list ever since his first semester ended. He’s always on the honor roll. In his spare time he’s just like any other young adult. Frequent nights at the movies with his friends, an arcade game or two at the local mall, a nice fun trip to the coffee shop where his friends embrace life along with him, or a solitary quiet trip to the library or the bookstore are just a few of the activities that he does amongst his hard work.
Even with the plethora of activities he likes to frequent the bookstore the most.
“I’ve always been a veracious reader… book worm… my audio book count is way higher than my body fat,” he said laughing.
He’s not just a hard worker in college. He’s a hard worker in the literary market. He’s a writer, having published many reviews, literary essays, poems, and accessibility related articles for a wide range of media both print and online. He’s a regular editor for Americascomedy.Com while also maintaining a third hobby of motivationally speaking.
He tells his story at personal bookings that he schedules himself throughout many venues. He tries to speak at schools the most if he can.
Kingett hopes to bring some of the troubles that abused kids endure, and ways to overcome and shine. “I want to inspire others to do way more than I have accomplished!”
Every story has a once upon a time. With the exception of his premature birth, the first six years of Kingett’s life were his most tranquil. Weighing a mere 6 ounces, a hospital error would lead to his disabilities on September 9, 1989.
“They placed me in an incubator because my lungs weren’t developing adequately and they were not monitoring the oxygen level,” he said. “It was too much so it caused me to have cerebral palsy and blindness.”
While his mother visited occasionally, his maternal grandparents raised him in St. Augustine Florida
Even though his grandmother had Alzheimer’s and dementia, he said, “I lived a spoiled life.”
Shortly before his eighth birthday, his grandmother had a stroke and had to go into a nursing home. Shortly after, his grandfather died from cirrhosis of the liver.
He had no idea what he was in store for when he first moved in with his mother and younger half sister and brother.
“I realized it pretty quickly after the first argument between her and her husband that this was not going to be a good situation,” he said. “They were both intoxicated and they got physical and verbal.”
Afterward, she would come into his room.
“She didn’t know how to let that anger go and so she’d turn it on me and my sister,” he said.
Kingett said his mother’s words varied but they often reflected what he believes she really wanted to say to her boyfriends and ex-husband.
If he or his sister ever talked back, she would then get physical he said, slapping them multiple times, and calling them pitiless names. Cries and complaints were not heard as the mother’s intoxication took over.
Sometimes he would hit back, but he said that only made her hit harder.
While the physical abuse happened only about four times a week, the verbal abuse was constant he said, attributing much of it to his mother’s constant alcohol abuse.
Kingett never called the police about the abuse. Even when the police came due to his mother’s domestic violence situations, he would lie to keep her out of jail.
“To me it was normal,” he said. “I was trying to protect the roof I had over my head. Facing the expected was a lot better alternative than going into an unknown foster system.”
Kingett said he feared what life would be like if he was removed from the home by the government. Numerous times, DCF, Department of children and families would have to investigate a suspicious complaint about Kingett or his siblings.
A smart kid, Kingett would ace tests at the Florida School for the Deaf and Blind but he consistently neglected homework.
It was during a meeting with the principal at age 14 when he had his first life changing epiphany.
“I came to the conclusion that if I stayed here, I’m not going to be successful at all,” he said.
At age 16, he began researching how to get his social security disability checks signed over to his name instead of his mother’s. The plan was to take the $625 a month and move out. The research wasn’t easy, as he was also trying not to flunk his classes while the neglect and abuse was still taking place at the home. Eventually, the research was replaced by diligent schoolwork until a year later.
At 17, he called the social security office and was told the only way the money could be signed over to him was to attend a hearing.
“I froze when I was told that because I knew that my mom had to be in on the knowhow,” he said. “I tried to keep it a secret from mom as long as I could but she could see the mail coming in and I could not. When she saw that hearing notice, she became extremely angry because that was I taking her money away. She said, ‘How could I do such a thing. Your sister and I live off that money. That’s how you are able to have a roof over your head.’”
The day of the meeting was a mere week from his 18th birthday.
Kingett said his mother tried to make him look incompetent, telling the social worker that he didn’t know how to clean his own room much less tie his own shoes.
The social worker sided with Kingett, but there was one big problem.
“I couldn’t cash any of it,” he said.
Kingett did not have a bank account, a state id, or even access to his birth certificate.
Once he got home, the violence escalated.
“She hit me so much it knocked me out and into consciousness,” he said. “I had to leave because I didn’t know what was going to happen to me if I stayed there. I grabbed my cane and backpack, threw old dirty clothes in it, and walked out the front door.
Kingett left his home and soon stayed with a family friend, Kevin, until he moved in with a woman named Debra. Knowing Robert had nowhere to go; she offered him a place to stay. Kingett stayed there until his high school graduation.
He graduated in June of 2010.
Graduating high school was only half the battle. Kingett’s plans were to attend a college and pursue his long awaited dream of getting a degree in journalism or English. He needed a way to pay for school, and that’s when the scholarship hunt began.
“I had a really hard time meeting the requirements of a scholarship, any, for that matter.” He said. “My high school grades were not good due to my negligence of school work despite my intelligence, so I had a low grade point average.”
Kingett would apply to many scholarships only to be denied.”
Determined to find a place where he could be independent he scoped the internet hunting for a place to live.
“I admit I can’t cook. I can definitely eat though.” he said laughing. “I needed a place that wasn’t a nursing home, per say, but just a fractional inch more assistance I could use. I have cerebral palsy and there are just some things that I simply need help with.”
After months of looking he found Freedman Place. Friedman Place is a non-profit Supportive Living Community for blind and visually impaired adults in Chicago. Their building has been designed with the needs of the blind and visually impaired in mind. Each resident has a private studio or one-bedroom apartment, with a kitchenette and bathroom. A full range of services and activities is provided so that residents’ days are healthy, dignified, and stimulating
“I needed a place to stay. This place sounded wonderful! That way, flux would be minimal. No more would I ever have to rely on friends.”
Since Kingett has stayed at this helpful place, he can finally let the past go and have a little fun at last.
“It’s not about the horrors I’ve gone through it’s about me overcoming so many things,” he said, attributing his sense of humor to his positive outlook.
His reward comes in the form of emails and postings on his website from students who say their lives were changed by his tale.
“I can’t tell you how awesome it was that I could make someone happier,” he said.
But now that Kingett has secured his present, what is his future dream? “I dream that one day I could be standing in a bookstore at a book signing of my own and knowing in my mind that I have improved so many lives.”
Read His Column at BEST GAY NEWS
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