Derry, Northern Ireland

Derry, Northern Ireland
A book I'm working on is set in this town.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Warning -- NSFW post...

I ran across this on a friend's Tumbler blog, and it kick started a memory process that I'm still working through. I first started realizing I was gay back in the 70s, in Texas. This was when it was illegal for even married straight couples to have sex in anything but the missionary position. You could get sent to jail for up to a year. And if you were queer? you'd be lucky if that's all that happened.
Funny thing is, times were a lot freer in many ways. I think I wound up with more guys who self-identified as straight than fellow gays. And it could be just as easy as presented in these gifs. It was the sexual revolution and everyone was trying out new things. Didn't hurt I was slim and good-looking.

There was one occasion, when I was a sophomore in college, I was working as a host at a restaurant (I hated even the idea of waiting tables, though I'd do it in a pinch). We all had to wear a tux, it was that kind of establishment. Extreme decorum.

One night, I walked into the kitchen and heard one of the waiters bragging to the woman who fixed the drinks that he he was 10 inches long and could go all night. These days, that would be a sexual harassment lawsuit; she just rolled her eyes and returned to the bar. I shook my head at him, trying not to laugh. He snorted at me, "I am, and I'm gonna get her. Watch." He was a good-looking guy, so I figured it was possible.

Took him a few weeks, but he did it. Then she started being really nice to him, getting his drink orders done first, making sure he had the best and freshest coffees...and he started treating her like crap...like he owned her. A week later, I was closing up and she was finishing setup for the next day, and we got to talking...and she confirmed it. And stupid little Kyle just had to ask, "Is he really that big?"

She shrugged. "I couldn't tell you. I never saw it." And she started weeping. I felt like shit.

We had a couple of shots and talked about anything but him, and she settled down and went home. And I decided I was going to find out, for myself. Next time he got to bragging, I quietly goaded him into a bet -- $50 said he was exaggerating. And I made sure none of the other waiters heard me doing it. He thought I was joking. But after a couple more nights, the money got his interest and he agreed to prove it.

He came over to my place, a little made-over garage behind an old house...and I lost $50. But...one thing led to another...and let's just say that's the closest I ever came to paying for sex. And he came back for seconds, no money involved, this time, because he couldn't believe I'd made it feel so good.

Now maybe he was a closet case, but he still wound up married (not to our co-worker but some mean bitch from the West Side, who I think was older than him), and with a bunch of kids and a belly. Last I heard, he was driving a delivery truck. My feeling is, he got spooked by how much he enjoyed sex with another guy and got married to the first woman who'd have him. I wasn't working at that restaurant, anymore, so I couldn't ask the woman if he'd asked her...but I'm pretty sure if he had, she'd have punched him.

He was not my only "straight" guy, not by a long shot. But then AIDS happened and sex became politicized, and now there are too many people who think if a guy does it with another guy one time, he's queer. It's ludicrous. As if a gay man having sex with a woman, one time, makes him straight. I don't see those times as more simple; just more adult.

Too bad the puritans at both ends of the spectrum took over.

2 comments:

MAC said...

Well, you're just full of stories aren't you. Is their a biography in the future?

JamTheCat said...

I put too much of me into each story for that...but...who knows what more evil lurks in the heart of a rabid writer?