Fascinating People :: Conor Murphy

Kilian Melloy READ TIME: 11 MIN.

Some people are the class clown. Others are ninja assassins with the cutting remark. It's a rara avis who succeeds in a smoky cabaret -- but comedians of every feather roost on Facebook.

That's what my friend Conor Murphy does, which is why I always look forward to his posts. From epic days gone wrong (panic-prompting spiders, menacing Russians, car disasters) to piquant and telling encounters at the local Starbucks, Conor finds priceless material everywhere. Of course, as the adage goes, a good comedian doesn't just tell funny stories; a good comedian makes them funny. (All right, busted, I cribbed that from a movie.)

Conor and I used to sing together in the Boston Gay Men's Chorus, until his then-significant other dragged him away to some desolate place in the heartland. That was scandal in and of itself for we outraged Chorus Boys, who cotton to our own and dislike losing our favorite fellow singers. What was worse, a few years later Conor found himself alone -- and still in Des Moines.

But that turn of events ushered in a whole new chapter. Comedians are funny not because they focus on bluebirds and flowers, but for precisely the opposite reason: They have a way of talking about pain and suffering, loneliness and anxiety, and other things that go bump in the dark night of the soul, that somehow transforms terror and tragedy and pathos into compassion, humor, and even tenderness. Admit it: Who really melts your heart? The Sarah Silvermans and Kevin Harts of the world. The Margaret Chos and Lenny Bruces. Even the Woody Allens. They don't do it by pretending the sun is a butterscotch candy beaming its sugary rays upon us. They do it by confronting existential terrors with a grimace that flips around into a defiant smile.

That's what Conor does, and now he's doing it for the public. In his search for romantic connection, Conor has unearthed such a rich vein of comic gold that he's started a new blog called Two Guys One Date. It's a young blog -- with only a couple of posts so far -- but I have to say, even if I didn't know him, I'd still rank Conor as the author of my favorite blog right now. (Others seem to agree: "Who is this guy? He's smart and adorable. How is he still single?" one Facebook friend posted after I shared the link to the blog's first episode.)

The idea is suitable for reality TV, or for a New Yorker article: Conor goes on a date with a new guy, sees how it goes, and then at the end -- by pre-arrangement -- he has the fellow fill out a survey. It's part gay "The Bachelor" and part master's thesis for an anthropology degree, and while Tucker Max carries on hoping that lager is the libation of choice in Hell, Conor clearly prefers martinis during his time in romantic purgatory.

Dear readers, the fascinating Conor Murphy.

EDGE: So, a few queries. Readers of my column won't know who you are so I will write a paragraph of two to explain we're friends from your time in the BGMC, then you moved to wherever the hell you are... Dubuque? Cleveland? The Hebrides?... and then jump into some broad questions...

Conor Murphy: Des Moines. I don't mind people knowing where I am at all, but I'll never mention it on my blog. Or, my name for that matter. I'm trying to give the sense that I'm every gay man. I'm you and your best friend, your coworker, and your brother. But there are plenty of clues on the blog to figure out where I'm located, and while I don't use my name, I do use my photo. People like photos, or so I'm told, and I'm vain. ;-)

EDGE: You're in your mid-thirties, right?

Conor Murphy Yes, I'm 35.

EDGE: You've been single for a few years now. I'm an old married guy, so bear with me as I ask in all earnestness: Is it really all that bad?

Conor Murphy: No, it really isn't all that bad, but I think after spending 12 years of my life with someone, I've never quite gotten used to sleeping alone. There's something comforting about knowing that if someone breaks into your house to murder you at 3:00 a.m., they're also going to get the person sleeping next to you who refused to do the dishes earlier in the evening.

I enjoy being able to come and go as I please, but I think at the end of the day we're all looking for a refuge in someone. It's hard coming home at the end of a long day and having to tell your sorrows to a bottle of wine, at least for me. I'm not a solitary person, and while I do like my alone time to sit and think, I need to come back from that and be able to exchange ideas with someone.

I was coupled almost the entirety of my 20s. It's nice to be able to take advantage of the freedom to explore myself and have a little fun, but at the same time, I don't want to spend the remainder of my life alone. Christmas morning is a little tough when all of the presents under my tree are ones I bought for myself.

EDGE: What I hear from straight and gay friends alike is that the dating scene is rough. What are the hardest things about it, in your experience?

Conor Murphy: I find that emotions are often one-sided. You may really dig a guy who doesn't feel the same, or vice versa. It's painful to be rejected and it's hard to reject others. A guy once said to me, "I love you, but you're just not my type." What am I supposed to do with that? I'm perfect other than how I look?

With the advent of all of these dating apps, dating is probably a lot harder than it was a decade ago. People know what they're looking for, and they're resolute it finding exactly what they want. There's no settling for someone who meets 95% of your qualifications, because there are a 150 more guys to look at if you just scroll a little farther who may meet your exact specifications.

EDGE: After a number of dates that - from what I gather - ranged from comic to disastrous to tedium on a stick, you decided to make a "social experiment" of yourself and start setting up single dates with men who don't mind being asked to fill out questionnaires afterwards. What sparked this idea?

Conor Murphy: I was at dinner with friends and telling them about a second date I had with a guy. He offered to make me dinner at his place. I came over and I watched him sit on the couch and get stoned. He was so stoned that he completely forgot to make me dinner and ended up sending me home with a frozen gyro.

After that, I started thinking that someone should start collecting these anecdotes of funny or strange dates. Then it turned into I should do that. So I decided to start blogging about my dates, but that felt really one-sided to me, so I incorporated the survey as a means for these guys, who are really trusting me to treat them accurately and thoughtfully, to have a say and give me feedback on the date. Then I thought it was a fantastic way to really learn something about myself; we rarely have the opportunity to receive feedback on our dating habits.

I also thought it would force me to meet men who I might ordinarily dismiss out of hand. Who knows, the love of my life could be somewhere in those stacks of men who I dismissed for some silly reason. I also really enjoy hearing people's stories and that's exactly what you do on a first date: Tell your story.

The entire idea evolved over the course of an afternoon. By that evening I was registering the URL.

EDGE: How did you come up with the questionnaire you are using?

Conor Murphy: I took to Facebook to ask what people look for in a first date, and I wrote a little bit about that process in my first post. Then, I just smooshed my ideas together with what my Facebook friends were saying. I regret asking men to rate my attractiveness, but it's too good of a question to exclude.

EDGE: Describe your fantasy "ideal date."

Conor Murphy: I really enjoy conversation and exchanging ideas, so it would have to start with that. I love nothing more than sitting in a dimly lit space with someone, sipping wine, and just talking and laughing. I like that sense of intimacy from exchanging your hopes and aspirations, and even your regrets. Nothing beats that.

EDGE: What are you looking for in another guy? A soulmate, a long-term playmate, a partner in crime, an emotional anchor?

Conor Murphy: I am endlessly curious and need someone who challenges me and my way of thinking. And I need someone who remembers to pay the electric bill because I can't. Someone my size wouldn't be so bad so that I can double my wardrobe.

I kind of have this ideal life planned out. I mean, don't we all? We'd live in a Craftsman bungalow with our Irish Setter and go apple picking in the fall and go on road trips in the summer. We would decorate the house for Christmas the day after Thanksgiving because I can't wait. I love Christmas. And we would make brunch every Sunday for our friends.

It would have to be someone who has good sense of humor and enjoys the absurdity of life as much as I do. I also like dark hair, but that's not a deal breaker.

EDGE: I was meaning to bring up the hair color thing. You make references here and there about being a ginger, and you sound kind of apologetic about it... but isn't that a point in your favor? Don't people go mad for gingers?

Conor Muprhy: Well, we redheads are fetishized, or folks think we're disgusting. Who knows? I joke about it because it's funny to me.

EDGE: Your blog and Facebook postings are pure comedy. Do these accounts spring from you fully formed or do you have to spend hours refining them?

Conor Murphy: It's usually something that just occurs to me and so I post it. I also don't spend much time pouring over my writing and refining it. I should and I would be better for it, but I'm too impatient.

EDGE: Your punchlines often have to do with sobbing in the bathroom at work, or weeping into your breakfast burrito. Is this just for comic effect or are you really so lachrymose? Is it from sadness, or from nerves?

Conor Murphy: Haha. I am an emotional person, and I own that. Yes, I've sobbed in the bathroom at work, but who hasn't? Despite that, I think I'm one the most genuinely happy people I know. And, I've never sobbed into a breakfast burrito; I have woken up with a chimichanga in bed, however. I had to buy new sheets.

I also talk about things that aren't going well in my life because I think it's important to name these things and let others commiserate. I never want to come off as a complainer, and that's why I use humor often to talk about some of the really painful things that happen to me. Social media is saturated with people's happiest moments, and I say screw that. Life is full of obstacles, let's name them, talk about them, and laugh about them. We can't live in isolation.

EDGE: Along those very lines, many comedians know how to source their own pain and anxiety for their material, and you strike me as a natural. Is it therapeutic to talk about these things? Or do you come away worrying that maybe you've shared too much, and made yourself too vulnerable?

Conor Murphy: I don't think there is such a thing as too vulnerable. Vulnerability is what human connection is made of. I do think there is a certain amount of catharsis in joking about my own neuroses. I once said to a Jewish friend, "The Jewish diaspora taught western civilization how grieve. The Irish diaspora taught western civilization how to laugh at it." Maybe someone said that before me. I don't know.

But I don't worry about it in the least. I'm not the first person to have these feelings and chances are, if I'm feeling them, then someone else can connect with them.

EDGE: I know you do karaoke - I've gone and sung with you! - but have you considered doing standup?

Conor Murphy: Isn't my singing comedic enough? I don't think I'm particularly funny. At least, I'm not any funnier than the next guy. I think I just observe the small pieces of life that are farcical and point them out.

Anyway, I don't think I'd be any good at standup. I'm too nervous in front of crowds and I'm not aware of my body enough. People who are really good at standup are painfully aware of their bodies and how to use them for humor's sake. Unless you're Carrot Top; he's terrible. Ladies, am I right?

EDGE: Is this experiment all a bit of fun with an academic edge, or are you truly looking to make a romantic connection... or both, if that's how it works out?

Conor Murphy: I guess in short, both. It's fun and if I find love along the way, I won't be sad.

I am looking for a romantic connection, but my thought is, instead of wasting all that time on bad dates, I can put those bad dates to use and write about them, and learn and grow from them.

One of the hardest lessons in my life, and I still haven't fully learned it, is that not everyone will like you. I think this process will help. This also gives a really good excuse to just go out and meet people and it's so much fun. I've had a few dates already, and they've been really great. Now I just have to get around to writing about them.

This entire idea has been strangely exhibitionistic, but I get the sense that people are really rooting for me. That's a really remarkable and humbling feeling.

EDGE: What's your game plan for how the blog should unfold?

Conor Murphy: There are a lot of directions I want to take this. Obviously, the core idea is I go on a date, the guy fills out a survey, and I write about it while trying to be as candid as possible. I'll stick to the core idea, but I want to explore other areas. I just finished a post about unrequited love that I'll probably publish in the coming weeks. It's about a guy I've known for about a year, and for all intents and purposes we should be together, but it just never gets off the ground.

EDGE: One more question: Even though I am married and we've been friends for years, would you accept me as a date for one evening if I didn't live, like, 2,0000 miles away?

Conor Murphy: Of course I would! But, you'd have to fill out a survey. HAHA.

Read Conor Murphy's blog at http://www.twoguysonedate.com|Two Guys One Date


by Kilian Melloy , EDGE Staff Reporter

Kilian Melloy serves as EDGE Media Network's Associate Arts Editor and Staff Contributor. His professional memberships include the National Lesbian & Gay Journalists Association, the Boston Online Film Critics Association, The Gay and Lesbian Entertainment Critics Association, and the Boston Theater Critics Association's Elliot Norton Awards Committee.

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