About Me
I have been told countless stories of how much of a trouble maker I was, in that mischievous sort of way; I used to climb out of my crib when I was young and crawl to my sister's room where I would get in with her to sleep. As I got older, we ended up sharing a room, and we would argue all the time over the door. I needed it open, she required it closed. I used to take things apart regularly. I was a very curious child.
When I was three, I decided it would be fun to mimic my father, and shave. I cut just about every capillary in my face. I don't really remember it, but my mother says the doctors thought I would need re constructive surgery. I seemed to have turned out ok, facially.
Soon, I was incorporated into the family chores, where my sisters would attempt to bribe me into doing things for them. "I'll give you 50 cents if you wash and dry the dishes..." etc.
For the first six years, we all lived there, fairly happily. Then, for reasons unknown to me at the time, Dad just stopped coming to the dinner table. Soon enough, I realized that it wasn't that he wasn't hungry- he wasn't there at all. Turns out that he had been arrested for embezzlement. Oh joy.
Since mother never had to work in the family (she was a house wife), the family soon separated. My oldest sister moved out with her 2 year old daughter. The two younger sisters went to live with their biological father. All the brothers were from a previous marriage on my dad's side, so they went to live with Irene, their mother. From that point on, it was just me and mom.
We began a nine year stint of moving from place to place, town to town. We had basically turned into Cher and Wynona Ryder. Anytime something bad would happen, or a place would get old, or a job would be lost, we would move. In that time I saw three states and about ten schools.
When I turned 15, my mother and I were living in Fond Du Lac. She had begun drinking very heavily; some to forget, some to deal with the pain that her back was causing. It was at that point I felt that we needed to be apart. She needed to get her life in order, and I needed to get stable.
I moved in with my sister and stayed with her for about two years, as my mom went through her rocky recovery. In 1996, my dad actually popped back in the picture. I was working at George Webb with my sister, and we found his number. I met up with him again and we talked. I told him about mom and the moves and basic life stories. He apparently wanted to help.
He rescued mom from Fond Du Lac where she still lived, brought her to Milwaukee and they found a place together. It was soon after that that it was decided I move back in with mom and dad. For about a year, that worked. We all got along as a family.
At age 16, I told my parents I was gay. I went on a summer trip to my sister's house and left them a well thought out note, explaining how I felt. My mom cried, but seemed to get over it quickly. She told me once that she had figured that was the 'missing piece' in my life. My father's reaction was more subtle; he simply stopped asking when 'I was going to get a girlfriend.'
It was about that time that I met Joe and Bob. We met on a BBS and seemed to click really well. Bob and I eventually became really good friends. We talked for hours on end over the phone, eventually meeting at my work. We have been friends ever since.
Joe and I seemed to mesh well also. We both had very creative minds, and he dragged me into the gay life. Not that I didn't want to be there, but his way was to introduce me to Dave and Davee. Talk about reality check. I went from knowing no gay people to knowing 'the' gay people. They were more than just gay. They were elite. They had all the newest techno-gadgets, the best computers, the greatest music- if I could have moved in, I would have immediately. Actually, I became pretty much a permanent fixture in their studio apartment for a while.
One day while I was there, I met a boy named Keith. He was about 20, tall and fairly cute. He was there working on a mural. We talked a little and after a few hours, he offered me a ride home. I accepted.
We began to date, and it turned out to be a great learning experience. I realized that life could actually work pretty well. Looking back on it, it was a completely dysfunctional relationship and had I known then what I know now.. things would have been different; but I don't regret any of it.
Alas, I grew up. When I hit 18, I began working four jobs and was collecting money like mad. I ended up spending it all on Keith, but it was fun at the time. I was frequenting a local cafe called Walker's Point. There were hundreds of gay kids that came and went through that cafe, and I was friends with most of them. It was very fun.
It was at that cafe that I met the first real love of my life.
PART 2 - Meeting Donn.
It was a normal night at the cafe. As usual, I was there, chatting it up with the regulars, listening to the juke box that I spent half my earnings on. I had decided to invite a friend with me, (his name is not within my memory at this time). We arrived at the usual time, around 8. Being practically a self serve place, I grabbed coffee for myself and poured a soda for my friend. We sat at a booth next to the juke box, close the many of my other friends. I began rattling off introductions, trying to give him the feeling that everyone here was fairly friendly and that he could perhaps meet some people he would enjoy talking to.
You see, I had ulterior motive. My friend, while a very nice person, was semi-encompassed with me. He was attracted to me and I... was not. Not that he was a bad guy, or bad looking; he just wasn't what I was attracted to. I liked him enough as a friend, and so, being the person I am, attempted to 'broaden his horizons.' I wanted to show him that I wasn't the only fish in the sea and that he could very easily network if given the means.
So that's what I did. I introduced him to everyone there, including the lesbians and the straight people. The more, the merrier. It seemed to be working, to some extent. He started to have a common dialog with several of the patrons, some my friends, others just people I knew.
It was sometime within that hour that two strangers walked in the cafe. This was not unusual, per se; however these two were complete strangers. By that, I mean no one had ever seen them before. Not at the cafe, the bars, anywhere. Very odd. It peaked our curiosity.
They took a seat across the room, patiently waiting to be served a drink. They obviously didn't know how things worked. I began to watch them as I conversed and played cards with my group. After about 5 or so minutes, the server provided them drinks and I am not quite sure if they ordered food. They seemed to be just as curious about the place as I was about them.
It was at that time that Paco, one of our more flamboyant friends (read: I use the term 'friend' lightly in this case), decided to take the initiative. He walked over to the table and eyed each of the new customers. Up and down he looked; with one swoop, he was sitting next to one of them.
I noticed from the immediate change in posture from both, that they were not used to this type of socializing. I took a moment to look them over myself. The one facing away from me was the younger of the two- he looked to be about my age (18), maybe younger. He was seemingly timid, not speaking much. When he did speak, it was more impulsive; afterward he would look around as if to question his statement for validity or acceptance. He held himself in a manner that would suggest his confidence was not up to par. He attempted to fake it, and I could see how his quick wit and soft face kept him from being introverted too far. At that moment, I knew that he could handle himself, however he would have to adjust if he was to battle wits with Paco.
He had a look all his own. His manner of dress suggested a search for identity, but it worked well for him. Very typical of a person his age. He wore bracelets and rings and had clean cut hair. The pursed lips and 'diva' attitude he exuded spoke to his sexuality, regardless of the clothes he wore. It was obvious he was gay.
The other one was apparently older, but disguisingly so. He held himself as a man of maybe 35, very professional and aware of his posture. That, along with his exceedingly formal method of speaking was the only thing that revealed an age. The rest of him- his style, his hair, his smile- they all reflected a man of no more than 21. I thought a safe guess would be about 25.
He spoke in complete sentences, although to Paco, he never really said anything. By that, I mean he answered all of Paco's probing questions without actually answering them. Somehow, and quite skillfully, he avoided every question Paco shot out. It was clear that whoever he was, he wasn't going to tell Paco.
It wasn't that Paco didn't try. Trust me, he did. You could tell in the eyes of the older man that they were not amused by Paco's banter. Yet they didn't make him leave. At that point, Paco made the announcement that he had found his next husband. This was the first time I saw an expression come from the two strangers. They were feverishly embarrassed.
My sense of self could not let that go. I felt at that point it was my duty to rescue them. I stood up and joined the new found 'husbands', leaving my friend and my clique behind.
I immediately introduced myself and the usual formalities ensued. Paco began to rave about his new husband and how they would be off to Italy or some other exotic rendezvous within the hour and how he required a ring and a big wedding. I made several comments to his stature and the frequency of his divorce rate. The banter continued between Paco and I until he found boredom in the conversati
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