This is a story out of sequence – before the gift, before the thoughtfulness. For the past two months I have – choose your phrase – behaved, not acted out, stayed at home: you get the gist. Since Chicago to be exact. In the interim clearly issues of bi-sexuality have been on my mind – I post about them every few days. Yet I have not strayed.
The thoughts and desires have not left, though sometimes I wonder if I abandoned the blog if I might again live the sweet delusion of denial. This week I found myself in the City – New York City as you already have guessed. This is not an uncommon occurrence but this time was different. I needed to pick up a large package in one part of town so I parked there and walked to my office – up and over. Now I could have walked over and up, but I did not. Why? Because up and over took me past the sex shops. What was fascinating was not the number – that is pretty constant – but the number which advertised Male sections – buddy booths if you would. Now at 8 AM there is not much activity and honestly not huge desire. But I noted them all the same.
Come lunch time I would have claimed to not be sure of the path I would take back to my car but getting those extra singles in my change tells a different story. Sort of like those Law & Order’s when they are going for the pre-meditation. So walk back I did – over and down, past the shops. Well, maybe not past: that would ignore the detours. I made stops but did not interact with anyone. A function I suppose of many things, not the least of which is I am a graying middle aged man – not exactly “fresh meat” as my shrink would say.
Afterwards I e-mailed a friend – told him of my experience – and the response told me what I already knew. If it feels dirty, it probably is. If I need sex with men (I initially typed “act out” but enough euphemisms for today), I should do it in a way that allowed me to feel comfortable in my own skin. The best advice – things we already know but seem to be ignoring.
The next day I was abandoned at lunch time – colleagues away or running errands – so lunched at my desk, at my computer. Read the paper, checked the e-mails, and then my fingers (well maybe my brain was involved) typed in Craig’s List. A posting – same age, married, professional, local, today; and if works more. Why it was my posting, but of course I had not posted since Chicago. I hesitate and then I type: a brief response, the basics. A few minutes later: I have mail. An brief exchange and a time is set – end the day, start the weekend.
It is a question which is greater – my nervousness or my excitement. No, not really: nervousness wins hands down. When we meet my nervousness is palpable, noticeable, discussed. It is who I am. We touch and the nervousness fades. I will leave the details to sex bloggers and one's imagination. Suffice to say, I did enjoy.
I write not to tell of failures and success: that would be too easy. I write of two things. The first is my willingness to go to a buddy booth – the bottom of the food chain – rather than admit to myself what I wanted. I had permission to discretely do what I must. Looking at a glass of Cabernet on a nice marble bar, I said no: I don’t drink. Then I went out back for some Thunderbird in a paper bag. The deeper implications of this will need to wait for my shrink; I would like company on that path.
The other thing that struck me was a matter of perspective. Upon meeting Sam I was nervous as all hell; Sam was calm as a cucumber, comfortable in his own skin. I am not sure if he self identifies as bi or is just another straight guy who likes occasional sex with men. Either way, in some strange sense he appears better adjusted than me. Me: a blogger, an emotional explorer. Me: who questions every day. He could be outed to his wife – potential disaster. What could happen to me – my wife find out. Is there really anything left that KA does not know?
I have another friend who I have hooked up with half a dozen times. He is also not out to his wife yet he is also comfortable, not wound like I am for that first meeting. He is like Sam and in some strange way I am jealous of their comfort. I could be pithy – an ignorance is bliss kind of barb, but that would be soooo unfair to them. They are not ignorant: they have chosen a different path, one that KA has suggested I should have taken.