Sunday, November 14, 2010

I Just Saw My Dignity Leave In A Body Bag


My metamorphous is complete.  I had often wondered how the beautiful young gay boys with lovely skin, faces and bodies so full of happiness and hope for life, somehow change into the bitter, old, ugly queeny poofs you see on a week night in Stone Wall, who don’t care about themselves and dress SO inappropriately for their age and body condition.   Well this evening I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass of a shop window and I realized it had happened to me, I was there, I had reached that point and 30 years to early I might add.
Bad attitude and hate life, check.
No money and live off other people, check.
Feel bitterness towards large percentages of the community and family, check.
Know what day pension day is, check
Don’t have a car, check.
And the final nail in the coffin was I left the house in a Nike running singlet to go to a club on a Thursday night.  Arq at that, with a drag show.  Mmmm, how had I arrived at this place?
Well a blog is no place to retrace life’s disasters, well actually it might be, but I’m not going too, but I do know how I ended up in Arq on a Thursday night in a singlet.  It was a hot night, and has been warmer than 28 degrees and stormy for the last three evenings and I looked like a blimp in a white T shirt, my only other clean top.  So that explains how the singlet made it out the door on my back.
And I was out because a friend of mine had been arrested the day before on drug charges, and seeing as I don’t believe in being a fair weather friend, and this friend has been very good to me, I wanted to be there for them the last two days.  To be clear, I hate drugs and have nothing to do with them, I am friends with this person for totally different reasons and we are defiantly not drug buddies.
We had a few drinks at the Beresford on Thursday afternoon to lick our wounds after the stressful day at the police station the day before, and I thought now was as good a time as any to come out to this friend.  I told him how I hadn’t considered myself gay in the past because I couldn’t date guys, but found them perfectly sexy.  But recently I had not met any females that I felt attraction to, so thought maybe things were changing for me.  He was fine with it, as I knew he probably would be, as even though he is straight, he once let a leb boy try and wank him off in the back smoking lane at Arq , saying “If you can get me hard I will fuck you in the arse, but if you can’t then I’m right, I’m not gay”.  So in full view of a watching crowd, the leb boy went for gold with his hand down his my mate’s jeans so he could get fucked, but as my mate said to him “I told you, I’m not gay.”  My mate said something interesting, he said he wishes he was gay, because life would be heaps easier, for sex and this is the one I hadn’t heard before, he said he wishes he could live with a mate for the rest of his life, as women give him the shits.  But he said he just can’t get attracted to guys no matter how he tries.  I am the opposite I can’t get emotionally close to a man, but I have no problem with sexual attraction.
Current social thinking would say that I am gay because I find guys sexually attractive, but I find it fascinating that if you prefer the emotional company of men, you are considered straight as long as you don’t have sex with them.  This explains misogynistic men.  Sex with women yes, emotional involvement, no.  I guess this explains why there are so many men out there who only want to fuck women and hang out with their mates.  I don’t think that those types of guys should get the right to claim that they “love women” because in my mind they fuck women, in lots of ways, and love their mates.
This brings me to Friday night where I was at a table of three other straight guys that I went to school with, and they are all good looking and of European backgrounds.  I know all their wives and girlfriends and two have children.  Well it came out that they had all been at the hookers before dinner.  I hate that.  I hate being part of a lie, what am I supposed to do next time I have to speak to their partners.  It makes me wonder if their wives are in on it?  Do they have an arrangement but they pretend to be cheating?  And if not, why get married?  They are only 30, very wealthy and good looking; don’t get married if you don’t think you can keep a promise.  Are they just being greedy?  I love honesty so I am not sure how they could publicly make those vows and then in less than a year be doing regular runs to the whore house. 
Later in The Columbian Hotel, my mate started chatting to two pretty girls who turned out to be hookers.  This didn’t faze him at all, he prefers hookers for girlfriends anyway as he reckons they are the only girls who truly know what men are about.  Interesting philosophy, and more honest then the cheating husbands I guess, but it all brought me to a sordid place where I have been hanging out with a drug criminal, cheaters and prostitutes, how did I fall so fast, and where has my dignity gone!

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