San Francisco
Part 32

It was late afternoon, almost evening, as Pop and I went for a walk around town, just looking in shop windows and checking out the local scenery. Frisco was a pretty interesting town, full of contrasts, not only as far as its architecture and public transport was concerned, but also its people. It was like the United Nations.

“Hey, Pop, sorry about getting all emotional before. I dunno why that happened. Check me out. What do you see? A wuss? Sometimes I don’t understand myself. I can mix it with bullies, I can skate and blade with the best of them … I’m tough. Do you think I’m tough?”

“If you and I were to have a fight, I think I’d win by only the slimmest of margins.”

“Yeah, right!” I said before stumbling forward, holding my stomach. “Jeez, you crack me up, Pop. No way you’d win, and you fucking know it. I’ve got more muscles in my little finger than you’ve got in your entire body. Seriously, though, how come I got all weepy back there in the coffee shop? It was kinda embarrassing, actually, in spite of what Robert said.”

“Not good for the image, huh?”

“Big boys don’t cry, Pop. Don’t you remember what it was like when you were a teen? Y’know, guys being guys. All that macho stuff.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“And?”

“It was a load of crap. Boys have this weird idea that showing emotion has something to do with being a wuss. They wanna be seen as Mr Tough Guy. It’s all about peer pressure; about living up to the expectations of others.”

“So what’s wrong with that? Can you imagine Paul wanting to be my bud if I was all wimpy and limp-wristed? And what about you? You like me ‘cause I’m a hero. Right?”

“I like you because you’re you.”

“That’s what I mean,” I beamed. “I’m a hero.”

Pop couldn’t resist agreeing with me. It took a while, but his grumpy expression soon dissolved into a smile. “I suppose you’re right. All that boisterous huffing and puffing does have a certain appeal. But life’s not only about being a knight in shining armor, riding a gallant steed, and rescuing damsels in distress.”

“That’s my problem. I’ve never rescued a damsel in distress. Fucking hell, Pop. I’ve never even had sex with a damsel. Maybe I am a wuss. Maybe all this hero shit is just a disguise.”

“OK, how about we go to the red-light district and I treat you to a woman?”

“Huh?”

“Well, once you’ve done the dirty deed, you’ll feel better. Right?”

“You’ve gotta be joking, Pop. No way, man. There’s no way I’m gonna fuck a prostitute.”

“Why not?”

“’Cause… I wouldn’t be doing it for the right reason.”

“Which is?”

“To prove something.”

“That you’re a man?”

“Are you saying I’m not?”

“Daniel, you’re a young man. There’s plenty of time. I was being facetious when I suggested treating you to a prostitute. You really don’t have anything to prove… not to me or anyone else, including yourself.”

“Maybe I do. This whole gay parade thing today. I’m not like those guys, Pop. OK, it was fun to watch, and Jerry and his buds were totally cool, but…”

“But what?”

“Richard and Lee… getting married. All that stuff. Is that what I’m gonna be like? Don’t get me wrong, Pop. If those guys are happy, that’s cool. I don’t have a prob with that. But what about me? Who the fuck am I?”

“I don’t understand what’s brought this on all of a sudden.”

“San Francisco. That’s what’s brought it on. It’s like a lotta people live here ‘cause it’s cool to be weird. I dunno, Pop. Back in Tampa it’s me and my buds just having fun. No biggie. But now… seeing the gay parade and all those people. I mean, I don’t fit in. I don’t know who the fuck I am. It’s crazy. Here I am watching trams and traffic and people walking around the streets right now like there’s nothing wrong. But there is something wrong.”

Pop and I paused at a shop window displaying surfboards, sailboards, wetsuits, and clothing.

“The other night at Spencer’s place… you talking to Spencer and Willie and Motor Mouth. I thought you felt comfortable with them. You like those guys. They’re your friends. Maybe you should talk to Spencer about what’s suddenly troubling you.”

“Spencer’s cool. But Spencer is Spencer. What can he tell me? He can only tell me about his own experience. How’s that gonna solve my prob? Hey, Spencer’s totally rad. He’s a real hero. You should see him riding that sailboard, Pop. Totally awesome. All fucking class.”

“A real hero?”

“Yeah.”

“And you’re not?”

“I act like one, Pop. But I’m fulla shit. Sometimes I think about Kyle, and how awesome he was riding that surfboard.”

“Kyle from Cape Town?”

“Yeah.”

“He thinks you’re a hero.”

“So do you… ‘cause I’ve got pecs and I wave my dick around all over the place. So are you gonna recommend me for a medal of honor or something?”

Pop looked me in the eye for a moment or two, then shook his shaggy old head. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Seeing all these older guys… Robert, Lee, Jerry and his buds. And some of those people in the parade. I’m a teen, Pop. It’s like looking into a crystal ball. It’s fucking scary. What’s my mom gonna think in five or ten years from now? What’s Andy gonna think? What’s Greg gonna think? What’s Lindy gonna think?”

“More importantly, what are you gonna think?” Pop asked as we continued down the street.

“Me? Fucked if I know, Pop. I dunno what to think. I act like I’m a totally fucking carefree dude with no problems; like I’m invincible or something. Then I see guys maybe ten years older than me and it’s like what am I gonna be like when I’m their age.” I stopped, looked at a young straight couple arm in arm, totally in love, then turned to face my old bud. “I’ll take up your offer.”

“My offer?”

“Sex with a prostitute. I need to know if I can do it.”

“Daniel, I wasn’t being serious…”

“I am. I need to know.”

There was no way a dude my age was gonna be seen at the red light district, especially with Pop. It might look like he was a dirty old man and I was a fucking prostitute. They’d be right about him but not about me. Hahaha! So we decided to have dinner at the all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet where I first met Spencer, then go back to the hotel and phone an escort agency. Pop would go to the hotel bar for an hour or so, then return to our room.

“Are you nervous?” Pop asked as we ate our meals with chopsticks. Then he filled a glass with white wine from a carafe. I was drinking Pepsi.

“Scared stiff. Then again maybe just plain scared. I’m not so sure about the ‘stiff’ aspect. What if I don’t like her? What if I can’t get a hardon?”

“What if you change your mind?” he suggested after swallowing a mouthful of food. “You don’t have to go through with this, y’know.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be a wuss, and I’ll never know. When you were a teen at school, didn’t all the guys talk about having sex with their girlfriends, or any girl for that matter?”

“Sure they did.”

“Did it bother you?”

“Yep.”

“So what did you do about it?”

“Tried to have sex with a girl.”

“Tried?”

“Tried. It was a disaster. It actually made my situation worse.”

“You gave up after that?”

“There was nothing to give up. I wasn’t like you. I was afraid of sex; any sex.”

“Did you ever wanna get married and have a family?”

“I thought about it from time to time.”

“Can I ask you a personal question, Pop?”

“Nothing’s stopped you before.”

“Do you ever wish you weren’t gay?”

“Not any more. When I was younger I went through all the usual ‘why me?’ bullshit. It didn’t do any good. So I learned to accept myself for what I am, and no longer worried about who or what I wasn’t. Mind you, I never went as far as the ‘gay pride’ thing. I was happy with simply being content. Actually, I thought you’d already achieved that state of mind, Daniel. You’ve always given me the impression that you’re totally confident about yourself.”

“I am. At least I was. Meeting some of those guys today was a bit of a culture shock. It was different to meeting you. I’m not gonna be your age for a million years…”

“Thanks.”

“…but I’m gonna be their age pretty soon. I wish I could be a teen forever, Pop. I don’t wanna get any older. Well, old enough to get my driver’s license, but that’s it.”

Just then I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a familiar voice. “How ya doin’?” It was Spencer – he was with Willie and MM. “Mind if we join you?”

“Totally cool!” It was a sight for sore eyes seeing my buds again. It was for Pop, too, ‘cause he was beaming. He loved those dudes as much as I did.

The guys placed their plates and beers – soda for MM - on the table, and right away asked us what we’d been doing.

“We watched the Parade. Didn’t see you guys there.”

“Been there, done that. Once was enough. It’s really not our scene. But I can understand tourists like you guys being curious. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yeah. It was cool. Some way funny and crazy stuff happening. Met some cool guys as well. They let us share their cordoned-off area, so we had an awesome view of everything.”

“Are you gay?” MM’s sudden and unexpected question came straight outa left field and threw me completely.

“Gay?” My mind was frantically searching for a way to avoid answering his question directly. “You mean like some of those dudes in the Parade? No way, Jose.”

“More like Spencer and Willie.” I practically choked on my food, while Pop urgently reached for the carafe of wine and filled his glass. “Sorry,” the kid continued, I didn’t mean to embarrass anyone. But like it’s no biggie here in Frisco. I’m not, though. Gay, I mean. At least I don’t think so. Maybe it’s too early to tell yet, do you think? When did you know, Daniel?”

“Eat your food before it gets cold,” Spencer said firmly but to no avail. The kid wasn’t called Motor Mouth for nothing.

“Do I look gay?” I asked, still finding it hard to believe how casual the kid was about all this… like it was a convo he’d had a million times before.

“Nope. That’s why I asked. You don’t look gay at all. You look like Spencer and Willie. Y’know, like a regular guy, only better looking. Not better looking than Spencer or Willie, but better looking than a regular guy if you know what I mean. Spencer says I’m gonna be a looker when I’m older.” Then the chatter was put briefly on hold while the kid filled his mouth with food.

“Actually, I think you’re a pretty hot looker already.”

“You do? Thanks. That’s a pretty neat compliment coming from a guy like you. Spencer said you’re one of the hottest guys he’s ever seen. There’s a girl at school who thinks I’m hot. I’m taking her to the school dance. I guess that must mean I’m straight, huh.” That cracked us all up, but MM didn’t seem to understand the reason for the laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“It’s no wonder that Spencer and all his friends think so highly of you, MM,” Pop said. “You’re a joy. The world could do with more people like you.”

“No way,” Spencer cracked. “The rest of us would never get a word in edgewise.” Then the tall, dark-haired hunk went on to tell us about his day sailing out on the bay. “By the way, when are you guys leaving for Florida?”

“Day after tomorrow,” Pop answered.

“Have you signed the deal with your publisher friend yet?”

“Nope. And I don’t think I will. I have a feeling there will be too many creative restrictions placed on my work. I think I’ll stay independent.”

“I hope he’s not too pissed about it … paying your travel expenses, putting you up at the Inter-Continental and whatever.”

“It was his idea. Besides, he’s loaded. This is chickenfeed to him, not to mention tax deductible.”

“You must come to the beach house for a barbecue before you leave. Got time tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sure thing, and thanks.”

Copyright © 2003 All rights reserved. mrbstories