I'm
embarrassed about this one.
I am really good at blocking out memories I want to forget... you ready?
So
in college I had a big group of 10+ close guy and girl friends. We were a huge
group that did everything together. My school was pretty small and dweeby
with an overall attractiveness score of a 3.5...maybe. I must say the girls
were way hotter than guys so it made it a lot easier for lame dudes to get with
hot chicks-- either way, the point is, my girlfriends were fairly attractive sorority girls.
We had the small, flexible Asian: Kappa Delta, the crazy, untamed blonde: Delta
Gamma, the sweet, wholesome jewish girl: Alpha Phi, and the sorta tomboy,
unaffiliated chick... (I hate the term unaffiliated because it sounds like a
medical term when all it means is a person who does not participate in greek
life-- the term acquired a negative connotation at my school but I don't mean
it that way here).
The
guys were all very close but with any group
there was always someone who was a little bit of an outsider. That kid was
Alex. Alex is Jewish, but as much as I hate stereotypes, he was one. He was
lactose intolerant, had IBS (Irritable Bowl Syndrome), bad skin, overweight, no
confidence, and had the beginnings of a pronounced bald spot before we even
graduated. I forgot to mention, he was also a little effeminate (It sounds like I'm ripping on Jews here, I'm not, I love them and learned as much about them in college as I did about my major-- I joke that I majored in Judaism). His stories
were always too long with too much detail and always fabricated to the point
where I couldn't bear to listen. It was like talking to a grandpa.
Bad
things always seemed to happened to Alex. In fact, the first day I met him, he
was telling me story after story (at that point they had yet to eat away at my
soul) so I was enjoying him and immediately felt close enough to say,
"Dude, your life is one long embarrassing story..." Keep in mind
I'd only known him for an hour at that point-- but that is the thing about
Alex, he is very warm. He makes you feel comfortable really quick and he is
very loyal. He's actually a really good friend, just sort of exhausting.
Anyway,
the story that I'm trying to tell happened a year ago, August of 2011 but
there are some good tip-offs/hints leading up to that story...
For
instance Alex was always saying gay stuff. We would just dismiss it as him
trying to be funny or trying to fit in. You know how sometimes straight guys mess
around and call each other gay or do/say gay stuff to be funny? Even something as
simple as one dude telling another dude to "Blow me!"... when Alex
did it, it always just seemed gay and creepy... not funny... he would always take it a
little too far... for instance on my birthday one year he texted me:
"You don't want to know what I did to my pillow last
night thinking of you for your birthday..."
Huh?
I truly don't even know what that means... at all.
OK
and get this... before going home to visit his family for Hanukkah one year he
came to DC and stayed with me for a night. We came back late after drinking and
I was going to have him stay on the couch but my stupid ass roommate had a cat.
He said, "I really can't sleep out here, there's dander and cat hair all over the couch and I'm allergic." Alex would be allergic to cats.
Fair
enough. I was laying on my bed and said, "OK, no problem you
sleep here, I'll stay on the couch."
"No,
No! That's fine you stay in your bed, really.... we can share!"
I was
like, "No Alex, we're not sleeping in the same bed!" So he darted off
and came back with the couch cushions and the blankets I left him...
"OK,
I'll just bunk up in here with you then...."
Fine, whatever. I
was too tired to even care. I was practically asleep and not talking and the lights were off so
it was natural to just go to bed but out of no where Alex says, "Are you
ok?"
"Uhh...
yeah..." Notice I didn't care enough to even ask why....
"Are
you sure?"
"Yes,
Alex. I'm sure."
"You
seem stressed..."
"What?
No. I'm sleeping, shut up."
"You're
definitely stressed... do you need any sort of... release?"
Now
in my head I was like... what the fuck does that mean? I said, "Huh?
Release of what?"
Silence....
Then
he said, "Cum..."
Despite
being exhausted I couldn't help but burst out laughing because.... it's such a
ridiculous thing to say... and he had
to be kidding, right? Who would seriously use that line if they were
trying to hook up with someone? He started laughing too... but I was definitely
a little unnerved by the whole thing. We then rolled over and went to sleep.
I
didn't think about it until the next day but... the cushions he used... were
the same cushions that were "too covered in cat hair" to be slept on
in the living room... but they were magically fine in my bedroom? A little suspicious if you ask me.... anyway... the real story....
So Alex was living in Irvine, CA
getting his PhD in neuroscience (he's since "left" the program and
moved to DC... I put "left" in quotes because that's what he tells
people... in reality he failed out-- I told you, bad stuff just happens to
him). Anyway, at the time he was still very much in the program but was doing
an east coast tour for the summer. He stayed with me for a few days while
visiting friends in DC. A bunch of people came over and went out to a
bar down the street. We had a great night
drinking and partying and once the bars closed a bunch of us headed back to my
place where we blasted Bhangra music and danced for hours. I know... very weird.
Eventually
everyone left except Alex and another good friend of mine named Lily. I don't
remember much, but what I do remember is that Lily had fallen asleep in my bed
between Alex and myself, meanwhile he and I stayed up chatting until we both
crashed-- all three of us in my bed.
I
was passed out on my back. I woke up in the middle of the night feeling a
gentle hand brushing ever so slightly over my inner thigh. I was definitely
still drunk and my eyes were still closed. The hand was so soft and so gentle,
timidly trying to find its way up my gym short leg hole. I was starting to get
hard.
The
hand got frustrated trying to sort through the mess of my leg hole and started
rubbing my balls gently from outside my shorts. Keep in mind when I went to
sleep LILY was in the middle. I was 100% sure it was LILY but she and I didn't have this sort of relationship at all-- I
wasn't thrilled about it, but whatever I let it happen. Not sure how long the
timid, gentle caressing went on, probably just a minute or two before I opened my
eyes ever so slightly and was shocked
by what I saw.
It
was Lily!
But
she was across the room... on my couch... fast asleep.
"Holy
shit!"... these gentle and timid hands I keep referring to belonged
to Alex?!?
Reality
set in and those gentle hands quickly turned into big, hairy, sweaty palms. I
felt sick for letting him touch me like that. I felt violated... the memories
of those sad, awkward Matt hookups came flooding back.
I
should've rolled over and punched him in the jaw. I should've yelled for him to
stop... but I am a coward. I did the most passive aggressive (not aggressive)
thing ever. I just groaned a dramatic groan that probably didn't nearly convey
the disgust I meant it to convey... and I rolled over fairly violently onto my
stomach.
He
didn't even back off immediately. He sort of gave me one last grotesque ass rub
that made me die a little inside.
Not
sure how long I was laying there before I fell back to sleep. The following day
things went on as normal. No confrontation, nothing. A few days later he left
to go up to NY where his family lived but I couldn't get this thought out of my
mind. I was angry that he would act that way because it's forceful and gross but
at the same time I felt sad because well, it was Alex, who was a sad soul as it
is--and to add the gay factor just seemed like, damn, if there's a God, he
must've been a little hung over when he made this kid.
 |
| Real screen shot of DC craigslist search. I love the first ad. |
So
one might say Alex sensed something gay in me and that's why he felt like he
could make such a bold pass at me. Either way, he doesn't know about me. I
never told him. He has no evidence. And even if he suspects, it's really presumptuous
and rude and insensitive to behave that way. What if I were super insecure and
being driven crazy by this inner turmoil about being gay and him forcing that
gay pass on me put me over the edge? Granted it's nothing like that, but point
is-- it was wrong and gross.
I
was embarrassed for him... and for myself... so much so that I haven't told a
soul and I don't plan to, it would just seem disrespectful to him and also make
me look like a lame pushover... which in these situations I guess I am.
Anyway,
Alex returned to California and things were fine between us---things just went
back to normal with no real confrontation. THE KICKER: A few weeks later he called me and
said, "Yo, so I have to tell you about this date I went on (he'd been
dating girls online for months before). He kept using gender neutral pronouns
until finally he said something along the lines of... yeah... he's an underwear model."
I
was like, "Huh?"
Then
he just said, "Yup."
I
then cracked up... I laughed and laughed and laughed and in between the laughing
I managed to ask, "Are you coming out to me right now?"
And
he said, "Dammit dude, it will forever go down in history that when I came
out to you-- you laughed in my face..."
I
was like, "No dude, obviously that's cool, why would I care?... but
really... I've known since I met you freshman year!"
***
It's really funny to be on the other side of a person's coming out... because
you'd think I would know how to react properly. Nope! I reacted the exact
opposite way I would want someone to react-- but this was Alex! He'd been shat
on his whole life, a reaction like that was very warranted.
So
five months later he left his program in CA, moved to DC, and is currently
going to Georgetown for graduate school. He's happy and out and proud and
things are really looking good for him. At the end of the day, I must say, I am
proud of him...but that being said, I do think he takes his gayhood too far
sometimes. He has no idea (or if he does I don't care) that I know much more
about the gay world than he thinks, so I may come across as more judgmental
than I mean to, but I can't help but tell him he's gonna get himself into
trouble going on dates every other day with different guys... meeting
them on outlets like craigslist or Grinder.
He's
confided in me more than once, thinking that he'd contracted an STD, but at the end of the day it was jock itch or chafing, who knows. Either way, his stories, like always,
contain way too many details but now they're not just boring... they're repulsive. When I tell him that he should be safe he responds saying, "Dude, don't worry I'm safe, I always just have them cum on my chest." And if you saw Alex, you would literally vomit at that visual. **I'm such a bad person, but come on!
I'm constantly biting my tongue when he talks about
gay people. He is like wellllll.... we do this and we do that.... I'm like... no, just really gross ones do this and that.
Whatever.
I shouldn't judge his gayness because he is out and I'm not... which to the
world, means he is more comfortable and a better gay. But better by what
standards? Does that really mean he
is better off than I am? I mean, I've been in a gay relationship for 2 years
solid. Things aren't perfect, I admit, but we have a very special relationship
and that's a feat for anyone. I just don't talk about it. He's off hooking up
with random dudes every week, going to gay bars, and worrying about getting
chlamydia... but he's better off because he can step outside and say the words,
"I'm gay". Alright, fine. Fair enough.
Who
can judge? No one. So don't... and I won't either.
