Take Me Somewhere Else
In all of my years I have had a few quick romps with other gay men. Not many, but a few. The fact is…I tend to like guys that think they’re straight. Why? Because I really wasn’t relationship oriented. I wanted to have the interlude, but I didn’t want the commitment. Let’s do our thing, and then they should go home to their wives or girlfriends. I wasn’t all about breaking up straight relationships. I have always retained a great friendship with the wives or girlfriends who never even knew that their boyfriends or husbands liked the occasional tryst with THIS gay man. I just don’t blow and tell. It’s not my style. I can tell you there may be five or six guys reading this wondering if I am going to out them right about now. Relax, it’s not going to happen.
No, this post is about those “straight” guys who will diddle with the gay guys, but then when they leave they thump on their chest to show they’re secure in their heterosexuality and will deny to the world (and to themselves) that the event ever happened. I’ve always said it’s too bad that gay saliva doesn’t turn straight skin purple. We just don’t possess as much magic as everyone thinks we do, or there would be a few purple penises walking around today that would be having a difficult conversations with their wives.
All of this hiding and lying is rooted in religion. Yeah, I said it. Over two thousand years ago a tyrannical leader was tired of the opulence in his realm. So he had his faith leaders write pamphlets of rules – I’ll call them “Commandments” – to curb the filth he had been observing. Filth like stealing, killing, neighbors popping all over the villages screwing other men’s wives. He made up ten guidelines and had them passed out to the villagers on the cobble streets. No one paid attention. The stealing and the killing and the coveting were still going on. The pamphlets lay deserted in the gutters. The faith leaders offered to pass out the pamphlets during the Sabbath and proclaim the guidelines came from the mouth of their god. This seemed to work. And it’s stuck for these past two thousand years. Although, being a butt pirate was never condemned. I suppose that was added on during the years as rampant homosexuality was forcing its way to the forefront in Greece, India and Rome where most of the population had migrated to.
Homosexual tendencies are within us all. If you’re denying that right now – at this very moment – then you’ve had a homosexual thought and you’re trying to suppress it because religion taught you that lust for your own sex is a sin. Religion taught you that. The religion that goes back to those in power who used the word of their god to control actions and to bring conformity to the realm. But we’re two thousand years older and the realm has grown so much larger. What was good to control the population of 100,000 people back then is not going to work for a population of over 700 million now. The very reason someone suppresses their attraction for the same sex is because some where along the way they were told it’s a sin and that they’ll go to hell, and that fairy tale has never stopped circulating.
Anyone can be anything they want to be. Almost. They can be left-handed instead of right. Fine. They can be an astronaut, an architect, a writer, or a fighter. The eyebrows tend to raise, though, when someone wants to be an artist, or a dancer, a poet, or would like to design clothing. That right there is a sure sign there may be a little sugar on the rim. We can be anything we want to be, except gay. There will be severe consequences in the afterlife right after there are severe consequences in the here and now. Consequences like friends shunning us, parents disowning us, job opportunities being denied, blood donations are banned, and marriage is out of the question. The most severe consequence is death which is not necessarily frowned upon. In fact, a gay death – for some people – is a reason to celebrate. Even in a civilized world such as ours.
So to be gay is wrong. The wolf cannot be a sheep. It’s deeply frowned upon by all of society because the pamphlet from thousands of years ago says so. When I was growing up, my parents used “The Bad Boys Home” to curb my behavior. This was a place that they told me was underneath the sea, and guarded by hungry sharks. Once I went there I could not get out unless my parents came for me. I had very bad dreams about this place. The Bad Boys Home was not where I wanted to be. It wasn’t too long before I called bullshit on this place. There was no stopping me after that. I started smoking when I was 12, having sex at the same age, I skipped school…I was pretty bad because there was no way to control me until my father showed me the power of pain. The beatings commenced, and I’ll have to admit that I deserved most of them. My threshold for pain grew, though. It was getting pretty tough to get me to cry. In fact, my goal was to get my father to beat me so hard that he’ll eventually have a heart attack and die. I was a child then. I didn’t realize that was a horrible thing to be thinking. But I thought that, and so much more.
The ultimate get-back-at-my-father was to tell him I was gay. If this didn’t kill him then nothing would. It was the final rock I had in my slingshot of patricide, and I was ready to lodge it at my old man. It didn’t kill him, but it did end our relationship. However, I suddenly felt freer. I had suppressed this deep, dark secret for so long and I didn’t know why. Why was I holding on to it? I am Chuck, and I am gay. I have never spoken truer words. No one could ever use the threat of outing me as a sword of obedience. No one could ever tell my parents this secret in hopes of crushing me. Go ahead and tell them…they knew! And to this day, if someone doesn’t know I’m gay then they don’t know me very well, or they’ve never asked me directly.
The monster that just killed 49 people and injured 53 others in Orlando has never had the luxury of being who he really was. He had to suppress his homosexual side because his religion told him that sex with another man was a death sentence. He couldn’t tell his religious parents, so he carried on with the charade by getting married to a woman and having children. Of course, he was abusive to her because he was frustrated with himself. He was living a lie. And, according to reports and interviews of those that knew him – he wasn’t a religious man. When Tim and I were watching the horrible details being revealed on Saturday morning about the massacre, we were wondering why this man would drive from Port St. Lucie to a gay bar in Orlando? That’s a two hour drive in one direction. There are plenty of gay bars in all four directions of Port St. Lucie that were definitely closer. Why Orlando? If the police would stop killing the monsters, we might have gotten some answers. But since the police like shooting the suspects, we can only assume and crop theories.
My one theory was that he was having a secret affair with someone who lived in Orlando, and that’s where he would meet up with the guy. It turns out he was using Grindr, an app for gay hook ups on any smart phone. If you were a wolf that didn’t want your pack to know you were banging sheep, you’d take your activity out of eyesight of the pack. He followed the guy on social media only to find out his secret lover was meeting up with other guys and this caused a jealous rage. With guns in tow, he went into the nightclub to hunt down the guy who was neglecting him.
My next theory is that the guy he met on Grindr had dumped him because the wolf kept weaving stories about power and terror and most of us gay guys know bullshit when we hear it. So the wolf went to tie up loose ends. He didn’t want it out that he was laying with the sheep because it would eventually get back to his parents and friends back in Port St. Lucie and, well…their religion frowns on two guys getting it on.
Another theory is that the wolf chose Pulse two hours away from where he lived because no one knew him there. But he couldn’t get his groove on there because the sheep were there to dance and have a good time, not to stroke the wolf’s pelt. So he got angry at the sheep and decided their lives should end. Especially the pretty sheep that he knew he wanted, but they never wanted him back. Again, these are just my theories because why else would he shoot some, but let others go? He mainly took aim at Latin and Hispanics.
The death of the wolf has proved my life-long point that you don’t choose to be gay, you’re born with this. He was born liking the feeling of another man, but he couldn’t tell anyone because Muslim’s get all up in arms – literally – against anyone who has sex with another man. He had to hide his true self, and when it started to unravel, he had to find what he thought was a solution. If he would have revealed his true self, the angst would not have been boiling up inside him. The wolf wanted to be a sheep, but it was forbidden.
Again, I know a few guys that hide their true self. They’re bad at relationships with women. I’ve often said that they would make terrific boyfriend material, but not for girls. That’s not me being a gay man and wishful thinking. They’ve told me they can’t come out because of their fear of rejection from their parents, their family, their friends, and their god. Even though they’re the exact same person fifteen seconds after they tell their secret as they were fifteen seconds before the big reveal. I cannot wait until being gay used to be this dark, deadly secret that we kept to ourselves and those close to us, and eventually becomes a “remember when we couldn’t tell anyone we were gay?” joke, and we laugh and giggle about how dumb everyone was. Or the day when the younger generation gasps at the horror of how tragic it used to be for being gay, like how we react now to the witch trials, or how the Nazis treated the Jews. It’s okay to be a wolf. Be a proud wolf! But it’s also okay to be a sheep. You can be one or both, but be happy with yourself, or don’t be anything at all. We’ve had enough drama in the LGBT community, we’re done with it.
It took me just two minutes to find these three posts on our local Craigslist where wolves are advertising to the sheep for a little action. There are more wolves that want to be sheep than you realize. Keep an eye out for them, they’re everywhere. Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy they’re there. They should be happy I’m one person that will never reveal their true identity. Just ask the wolves that know me and have read this far and just breathed a sigh of relief. (Warning….there’s some pretty graphic language below this line. Scroll at your own peril.)