Thursday, March 05, 2009

No Exit

Sartre's play "No Exit" I read back in college: If I remember correctly, there was a straight man, a bisexual woman, and a gay woman trapped together in a room. The bi woman wanted the straight man, the gay woman wanted the bi woman, the straight man didn't want the bi woman but did it with her just to piss off the gay woman. (I'll probably have to go back and re-read.)

Back in the late '80s, I had a night of relatively bad sex that reminded me completely of the above.

I lived in a small apartment complex managed by a drug-addled gay guy who never cleaned the pool. (No, not "so to speak." The lazy ass never cleaned the damn pool.) He let a lot of his similarly druggy gay guy friends live there for free. At the time I wasn't out, had no idea the manager was gay or doing drugs, etc. One night I looked out my window across the way and saw a naked guy lying in HIS window, curtains wide open, jacking off. Being a naive 22, I immediately reported him to the manager the next day: "Was there a homeless guy in that apartment? I saw someone...PLAYING WITH HIMSELF last night!" My complaint (combined with my complaints about the scuzzy state of the pool) freaked the guy out. He told everyone he knew that I was a "narc" sent by the police, and subsequently quit in his paranoia.

(Funny how wanting a clean pool and not wanting to see guys jacking off was interpreted as being a "narc"!)

Anyhow, that's the back-story to my "Bad Sex" story, which took place at the same apartment building.

Once the building had a new manager, and a clean pool, I met a guy at said pool. Turned out he was, so he said, an "ex-Chippendale's dancer." He was staying there with a gay male friend of his, who was also out by the pool. The three of us chatted for hours, etc. The "friend" eventually went back to his own apartment, and the Chippendale's guy ended up coming up to my apartment. There was some more chatting and then a lengthy bout of making out. I was a virgin at the time and the guy was cool with that, so we just grappled for a while (and I learned how good someone's tongue can feel in your ear---oops! too much information!). He was completely gentlemanly in his naked Chippendale's way, though his "I'm going to drive you crazy" exhortations didn't really.

When it was all over around sunrise, we said 'Bye and I was seeing him out. Only to look down at the pool area and see the gay friend sitting there and glaring up at us...Lord knows how long he'd been sitting there waiting to see when his friend would emerge from my apartment.

I felt terrible. I could have cared less about the Chippendale's guy, yet here was somebody below who obviously cared very deeply, enough to wait up all night for him...

There wasn't any sort of scene. Chippendale silently went down to his friend's apartment, the gay friend followed him in without yelling at me. In the next couple of days, Chip and I went to a mall and held hands awkwardly. He then found another place to live and we never kept in touch.

But to this day I do feel a bit guilty about what I too easily got and didn't want, what the guy by the pool didn't get and would have given anything to have had.

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