MONOGAMY...PARTY OF ONE 2: DAMAGED GOODS

Last month's column struck a chord in me. Seriously, the idea of monogamy and people's lack of wanting let a sour taste in my psyche. Every day I crossed paths with way too many couples to believe they dislike monogamy.

Then again, they probably do not have the balls to be alone. In their destructive wake, they have left behind people like me. People who wanted monogamy...could do monogamy...but aren't sure who to trust due to gay men's ability to be fickle.
The rest question? After last month, did even I still believe in monogamy or was I just damaged goods?

WHAT WE NEED IS...A QUEEN?

"You have to accept it, Diego," Frenchman said, leaning on the counter. "The guys here in Hillcrest. they like their guys...like girls."

I frowned. "Seriously."

"Yea," Frenchman said.

I continued frowning. I had begun working out. My goal was for more mass. I wanted to look manly. Even when I didn't act girly, guys seem to put me in that mold. I hated that. Here was Frenchman telling me not to work out.

"It's the truth, Diego," Frenchman continued. He gestured to my co-worker Joel. "If a gay guy had to pick between you and Joel here. They would pick Joel."

"Because he's queeny," I said. I looked at Joel. "No offense."

"Yea," Frenchman said. "You'll just too...manly."

"So because I'm not some stereotypical limp-wristed queen, I'm going to be alone? Is that what you're telling me?!" I said, my voice getting louder on each sentence.

Frenchman backed off. Still, his conversation stuck with me. Why? From what I've seen...Frenchman wasn't wrong. Most gay guys in Hillcrest came across very queeny to me. And most couples were limp-wristed...no matter how muscular one of the pairing were.

It had been six months since Frenchman left the United States. In the time he has been gone, I've only been with two guys: the guy in Vegas and Mitch.

I took a break. I had been having an excellent fierce workout at the Gym@734. It was obviously something not lost on Michael...one of the workers there. After a long stretch of ignoring me for no reason at all, Michael had been sneaking peeks at me while I worked out.

I grabbed my backpack. Michael hang around the desk. His eyes had been locked on me as I headed his way. They quickly looked away.

"Take care," I said.

Michael looked down. Since I was right in front of him, I knew Michael heard me.

"Ugh!" I said with an eyeroll. Then I headed for my bus.

Or more recently...

I drank my Long Island Iced Tea. The DJ had the wall vibrating from the bass in the music. And while Rich's wasn't as packed as what I was used to, Rich's still had a lot of people out that night.

One such person was Latino Starbucks Guy.

Latino Starbucks Guy was this petite gay guy who worked at the Starbucks nearest Postal Place. Not ugly by any means. He seem cool with me. I had seen him a few days ago at the Fashion Valley Mall being obnoxiously queeny gay. Or to be more specific, that obnoxious thing that some people do where they are INTENTLY being loud and obnoxious because their life really sucked.

And here he was at Rich's. His eyes widened. My eyes widened since this was the last place ironically I expected to see him. Suddenly, he started yelling in Spanish, turned, grabbed his Gaysian (gay Asian) friend, and literally ran out of the room.

I rolled my eyes, sipped my Long Island Iced Tea, and wondered if the Latino guy community did a social drive-by.

Or even more recently...

After two crowded buses, Bus 120 turned the corner. I got on quickly since I need a shower before work at Hotel S. I wished I could say the same for the other people getting on the bus.

Latino Boi sat down on one of the sides. He was off in his own world, fingers typing away on his phone. My gaydar beeped.

Something caught my eye. It was a man running for the bus. He made it on, heading to the back with his leather jacket, boots, and puffed Elvis hair. He was also Latino and overweight.

If Latino Boi stared any harder at him, Latino Boi would be in his lap riding this Latino Elvis's penis. Here I was sitting on the bus showing off my arms and Latino Boi was drooling over some guy showing...his gut.

Later, Latino Boi tried to bat an eye at me. I rolled my eyes and looked outside. of course, I would be hit on since his Linchpin had left.

Not second best. Sorry.

If it wasn't one thing...it was another. I believe in the fact that gay men knew a good thing when they saw it. Then again I had seen some of the guys Brazil had slept with.

That said...Frenchman was right about San Diego men. Despite their so-called protest, they wanted a queen. And like Arkansas gay men, they would take old, fat, and/or ugly as long as it wasn't black.

The only difference? Instead of just white gays pulling this crap, there was also gay Latinos and Asians doing the same. I might as well be invisible...no matter how sexy I look.

MENAGE A WHAT?

I took the shot. It tasted good. of course, I was already drunk. Mitch was running around, busy at work. I looked around the bar. I had texted earlier by Ron. I had met Ron the night I was at the bar after 500 DAYS OF SUMMER. He wanted to hang out. So I waited.

"There you are! I've been on the patio the whole time!"

I hugged Ron. Then we kept drinking. We caught up on what's been going on, whether Mexican Oprah would show up, and how much I disliked Frenchman's now-ex-co-workers.

Then Bradley showed up. Bradley was friends with Ron. He was also very sarcastic and self-decrepitating. I naturally thought he was cute. He...wanted to go dance.

We all loved house music. Thankfully I knew where to go on a Thursday night for house music. A crazy taxi ride later, Ron, Bradley ad I danced it up at the Office. Laughs, moves, and cell phones as glowsticks reigned.

Bradley was trashed. However, he wanted to get more tequila from home. As we all waited for his taxi friend, I talked to Bradley while Ron sized up a guy we had dubbed 'Jesus.' It turned out that I had met Bradley before We had met the night I crashed at Mitch's apartment. I had been at a Greek cafe earlier and we locked eyes. Later on at the bar, Mitch had introduced us and a verbal cockfight ensued between them over me.

Small work.

"Diego. Come here."

I sat on Bradley's couch. I was way too messed up. His television was on. My eyes was focused on DEGRASSI. Ron had passed out in Bradley's room. Bradley and I had stayed up talking, getting more messed up. We eyed each other, wondering if anyone would make the first move. Finally, Bradley went to his room. I thought he passed out until I was being called. I headed to the bedroom.

Ron and Bradley were in the bed. They were hugged up together and resting. They wanted me to join. I thought they look goofy, but I joined in. Then it was all goofy...

...until Ron put a hand in the back of my pants.

Buzzkill for me. Earlier in the evening I had already told Ron...twice...that I wasn't interested in him. I liked having another black friend who been there and done that. And while I wouldn't mind making out with Bradley...I had too much experience in threeways to know what would happen when two of the three were more interested in each other than the third.

"Diego, wait!"

"I'll...just be on the couch," I managed.

And so...I was on the couch. DEGRASSI was still on the screen. Lately, I have gotten more and more offers for threeways. Not that some of them had not been great offers, But was that all I was good for now that I was 30? Seriously?

I curled up on the couch. My feelings were like a rape victim. Having DEGRASSI playing made it ironic.

VERSION 2.0

Frenchman went through a fair amount of trouble to gain my trust. Once it was gained, Frenchman and I became quite close. Anyone who knew of my experiences as a gay black man knew how hard it was to trust.

And Frenchman shattered that trust. He took two years of something that started as friendship and became more...and gutted it for superficiality and worries of what society would think...not to mention his 'friends.' His hypocrisy over honor, loyalty, and trust stood before me like shattered glass on the floor.

Given how my trust was betrayed...how could how I saw things not be damaged?

I would like monogamy. I had come home from work to an empty apartment over the last four years to not want someone there that I cared about. To have someone to wake up to that I loved. To joke and tickle.

In the wake of Frenchman's betrayal, I only gotten one thing from this community. Not white. Not Latino. Not Asian. So...bye.

And since, Mexican was the major minority here...added on to Frenchman's betrayal...I had discovered something disturbing left in me. I had discovered a dislike...maybe even a prejudice...to gay Mexicans...especially if they were queeny. I expected to be too feminine, shady, and bitchy for no reason.

I had yet to meet a gay Mexican to prove me otherwise. I also had yet to meet a muscular gay Mexican. I felt that was an urban myth.

"So what will it? Corona again?"

I looked at the bartender. "Long Island Iced Tea."

My bartender's eyes widened. "Starting off big tonight. Just off work?"

"Yep," I replied.

It was sad. When I was in Arkansas, I created a hard shell around me. I had been so innocent when I came out. And so many guys screwed me over. They loved doing it to the black men apparently. Eventually, I had to protect what little heart I had left...and that meant trusting no guys. It was very sad that how guys saw me in Arkansas was now how I saw gay men here...especially gay Mexicans.

"So where you from?"

We had been talking for a while. All I really remembered was that he was from the East and was in the Navy. I did not expect much. Not anymore.

That was how it was.

"Arkansas," I replied, sipping my Long Island Iced Tea.

I want monogamy. I came to the realization however that I was not going to find that in San Diego. Not white. Not Latino. Not Asian. So most people looked away even though I was good looking.

Fine.

"This is my stop," I announced as me and Navy Boy hit Hotel S.

"I still got a ways to walk," Navy Boy said.

"Well...I'll walk with you," I said. "I'm wired enough. Gotta be a good sarmitarian anyway."

Of course, I knew. Navy Boy had not found anyone else that night. So...why not?

Not going to get anything else.

Diego


 

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