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Stories from a man who fails to meet media expectations of what it means to be gay:
white, frivolous, over sexed yet sexless, shrill, single, stylish, a clown, unimportant, et al.
Tuesday 05/13/2003
I discovered
I discovered quite by accident, that my father was not the man I thought he was. He was not a friendly, affable fellow, originally from a small pueblo in Southern Mexico; instead he was a hitman for the Brazilian mafia. His specialty was abducting politicians and staging their deaths so that it appeared that they were killed by street gangs while looking for cheap male prostitutes in the slums surrounding Rio de Jeneiro.
There was a large racket coming from outside the house. When I looked outside the living room window, I saw that teenagers were taking turns riding shopping carts down the hill. They yelled, screamed, and shot pistols into the air as they careened by the house out of control. I shook my head and muttered "Kids."
I was walking along the wet sand of a beach talking to a tall, handsome Japanese-American guy. I was trying to get him to understand that since he was imunocompromised, he really should give up eating raw gulf oysters because of the risk for V. Vulnificus. He grabbed me by the arm and said that we shouldn't go any further. I looked ahead and saw that we were only few dozen feet from a huge amusement pier dating back to the 30's which was engulfed in flame. I was surprised that I hadn't noticed it before. I was surprised because there is no large amusement pier dating back to the 30's at Hermosa Beach.
John and I split up, more or less by mutual agreement. We sold the house and I used my share of the money to by a condo in an old high rise in Long Beach. I was looking out of the window at my view of a congested street corner when the police broke through my door yelling at me to put my hands up. One of the police officers walked over to a side table and picked up a small potted cactus. He looked at me and said "So the reports were true, you are growing and selling marijuana. You are SO under arrest."
They ignored me when I said over and over again "it's only a cactus, ONLY A CACTUS!"
My dreams of the past month or so have had a somewhat violent edge to them.
More later,
nico
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