San Francisco
Part 28

Both Spencer and Willie had drunk way too much wine - as we all had - to offer to drive Pop and me back to the Inter-Continental, so they did the right thing and phoned a taxi for us.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening, Spencer," Pop smiled as he shook the big dude's hand. "And thank you for all you've taught me."

"Taught you? Hey, Pop, I don't think anybody could teach you anything you don't already know."

"On the contrary, young man. You and Willie have been a mine of fascinating information. It's a wasted day when I don't learn anything new."

It was almost 2:00am, but the city of San Francisco was still alive with crowds of busy people and lots of flashing lights. Seemed to me like that this Californian town never slept.

As soon as we got to our room, I headed straight for the bathroom, which pissed Pop big time. He was dying for a leak. "By the time you find that shriveled up willie of yours I'll have wet my pants," I laughed, and closed the door behind me. But I was out again in a minute, with Pop waiting impatiently. "Your turn. You want a coffee?" Without waiting for an answer, I added, "I'll make two."

While the jug was boiling, I undressed. Then I organized the cups, and the little pouches of coffee and sugar. A minute or two later, Pop emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in his trademark towel, and headed straight for the bar. "Don't fill my cup to the brim," he ordered as he grabbed a small flask of brandy.

I placed both steaming cups of dark liquid on the coffee table, then planted my naked ass on the velvet-covered easy chair opposite Pop's. "Spencer's such a neat guy. So's Willie. It's weird how their folks reacted differently to their sons being gay, though."

"How do you think your folks would react?"

"Forget it, Pop. They don't need to know."

"True," the old dude said as he sipped his alcoholic brew, then allowed his eyes to wander over to my lazy semi for a bit of a leisurely gawk. "But it's a shame people can be so reticent about being their true selves for whatever reasons."

"It's about hurting people you love, Pop."

"Is it? Spencer didn't hurt his parents."

"His parents aren't my parents."

"You don't wanna disappoint them, is that it?"

"It's just that I'm not sure about who I really am, Pop. I might change. I might be different in a few years. Why tell my folks I'm this or that if I could be something else later on?"

"What you decide to tell your folks - or decide not to tell them - is entirely up to you, Daniel. I won't advise you one way or the other. If or when the time comes, you'll know what to do."

"Would you like me if I was a girl?"

Well, that question straight outa left field certainly got Pop's attention. He eyed my bod up and down for a few moments before his eyes gravitated back to mine. "That's hypothetical."

"So gimme a hypothetical answer," I grinned, spreading my legs a little further to give him a better view of my family jewels and rosebud.

"If you were a girl, Daniel, I doubt very much that you'd be flaunting yourself the way you are. You're incorrigible. In any case, you're not a girl, so there's no point in asking the question."

"So if I didn't have a dick...?"

"If you didn't have a dick, you wouldn't be Daniel."

"So who is Daniel, Pop? Sometimes I think you know more about who I am than I do."

"I do? If you asked Spencer the same question, would you get the same answer?"

"You're confusing me, Pop. And anyway, you didn't answer my question."

"You are many things, Daniel. Many, many things. What I see in you isn't necessarily what others see in you. So if you ask me who you are, you'll get an answer that's biased in favor of my interpretation."

"Cut the crap, Pop. What's your interpretation?"

"Does it matter? What's your interpretation of me? Is that who I am?"

"Jeez, Pop! Why don't you just gimme a fucking straight answer!"

"Because there isn't one. And now my young friend, it's time this fossil went to bed. I'm buggered."

"You can be so fucking infuriating, Pop. I ask a simple question and..."

"The question wasn't simple, Daniel."

"Hey," I said as Pop rose from his chair and waddled toward his bed, "can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Don't joke with me, Daniel. I'm not in the mood."

"I'm not joking, Pop. I don't wanna do anything... y'know, like sex or anything. I just wanna be with you, that's all."

Pop turned and studied my face for a few moments. "Be with me? You're already with me. We're in the same hotel room. And according to the weather report, there's not gonna be a thunderstorm or anything tonight. Why on earth would you wanna sleep in my bed?"

"For the same reason you'd like to sleep in mine, only you haven't got the nerve to ask me," I laughed, then burst into hysterical laughter, which got Pop chuckling as well.

"Daniel," he said eventually, "the answer is no. Look at me. Who on earth would wanna sleep with this? You've had too much to drink. Besides, I snore."

"OK. If I can't sleep in your bed, you can sleep in mine."

"No," he said firmly, then got into bed. He fiddled with his towel under the covers for a minute, then tossed it on the floor. "We're sleeping in separate beds, and that's final. Oh, damn! I forgot to order breakfast. Do me a favor, Daniel, and phone it through. I'm too tired to bother. And make it a late breakfast... 10am."

After I'd placed the order, I sat on the side of Pop's mattress and bounced a couple of times. "What's the prob, Pop? Why can't I sleep with you?"

"Because it's not right, that's why."

"You said I was many, many things. And one of those things is being your friend. You understand me, Pop. OK, so maybe it's your interpretation, but that's cool. When I'm with you, I can be myself, whatever myself is. Jeez, this is so confusing! Anyway, all I know is that you love me. And don't fucking argue 'cause I know you do. You care about me. You give a damn."

"So do all your friends," he mumbled as he rolled over onto his side, "as well as your folks. It's not like I'm the only one who cares."

"Right now I'm not with my other friends or my folks. I'm here with you."

The old dude lifted his head and looked at me with a kinda concerned expression. "What's bothering you, Daniel?"

"I'm not sure, Pop. Maybe it's all that stuff that Spencer and Willie talked about. It's kinda scary. They've got it all figured out, but I don't. Are you with me? It guess it sounds kinda weird, but the more I learn about other people the less confident I feel. Back home in Tampa, I strut around like I'm Mr Fucking Invincible, but here in San Francisco it's like I'm just another dude... just another confused dude among millions."

"Is that why you wanna sleep in my bed?"

"Yeah. I feel like a kid who needs a bit of reassurance... know what I mean? To know that I'm safe."

"Don't complain if I fart."

"What if I fart?"

It took quite a while for the giggling to subside, then I got under the covers. Pop was studying the ceiling while I studied his craggy face. "How come you're so strong?"

"Ha! Strong? I wouldn't call myself strong, Daniel."

"But you don't have doubts about yourself. You know who you are. Everything is cool with you."

"Everything is cool - as you put it - with me 'cause I don't worry about who I am or what I am. It's up to you to decide who I am. If I think I'm one thing, and you think I'm another, whose opinion is correct? It doesn't matter whose opinion is correct. What matters is that you like me."

"What about before you met me?"

Pop continued to scrutinize the ceiling for quite a while before he answered, then a smile spread across his face, followed by a chuckle. "Yeah, it was different then. Much different. You know something, Daniel? It's like we're all waiting to be discovered. If I'd gotten all paranoid about being my true self and wearing towels, and tried to be somebody I'm not, you probably wouldn't have liked me."

"But I tried to impress you."

"And you did. Whoa! How you did! But you were being yourself."

"Lemme get this straight, Pop. I'm the only one who doesn't know who I really am. But everybody else does. Is that what you're saying?"

"Not quite. Remember when you were telling me that there are all kinds of 'cools'? That 'cool' can mean different things to different people? It's kinda like that. So what I think of you may not be what Paul, or Spencer, or Willie, or your mom, or whoever might think of you."

"So who am I?"

"That's a very good question, Daniel, and I'm not sure I have the answer. What do you see when you look at your reflection in a mirror? Do you see what other people see? Or do you see something different? I guess the answers to those questions are elusive. Are there any bullies at your school?"

"Yeah... Norman. A fucking dickhead."

"Does he think he's a dickhead?"

"I don't get it. If he's not a dickhead, what is he?"

"Good question. Now gimme a kiss on the cheek and go to sleep."

"Your cheek's like fucking sandpaper," I complained after giving Pop a little peck. "Gross! Hey, Pop. I know you're embarrassed about my sleeping in the same bed with you, but I want you to know something. OK?"

"Don't say anything you'll regret in the morning."

"I won't regret it, trust me. I want you to know that I'm here 'cause I wanna be. And if you don't know who you really are, then I do. You're my special friend, Pop. You're the kinda guy who would stick by me through thick and thin. Don't ask me how I know. I just do. And the same goes for me. Buds for life, huh?"

"You won't think so after one of my farts."

Pop was fast asleep within seconds. Must've been the brandy. So I turned off the light and just stared into the blackness for a while. Who was I? I guessed Pop was right. I was a whole bunch of things. I was who my mom thought I was, who Paul thought I was, who Greg thought I was, who Spencer thought I was, who Pop thought I was. Hmmm. So who did I think I was? A good looking dude with a cool bod? Was that it? Was that all I was? Nah. I had to be more than that.

Dammit. I couldn't sleep. So I got outa bed, grabbed a beer outa the bar fridge, popped it, and sat by the window, gazing at the Golden Gate Bridge. Even at 3 in the morning, there was still a fair bit of traffic going to and fro. It was kinda weird looking at those cars down below with people in them. Who were they? Where were they going? Did they know who they were?

For a long time, I sat by the window sipping my beer and wondering about life. Occasionally, I'd glance at Pop, who was sleeping soundly, totally at peace with the world. He was a funny old bugger. "You'd make a great grandpa," I said softly, "and since I don't have one, you're it."

But that wasn't quite right either. Grandkids didn't behave in front of their grandpas like I did, getting naked and doing all that teasing shit. I studied him for a while longer, trying to figure out what exactly Pop meant to me. But the more I tried to figure it out, the more confused I became.

"You are many things, Daniel. Many, many things."

I returned my attention to the view of SF city with its thousands of blinking lights. Was there an answer out there somewhere? Maybe there was. I began to realize that the city was made up of many, many parts.

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