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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.
08/30/2004
A model of a party
I�ve mentioned off and on that John is a semi-amateur photographer. �Most of his work has been with gay men, and most of the images have been for their own personal use, or for online profiles, so there tends to be a certain erotic edge to a lot of what he does. � We had a party last Friday night to show off some of his stuff with the models and their friends as guests. �I�ve come up with two versions of the event, one factual, one fictional. I�ll leave it up to you to decide which is which. Hopefully one of the two will meet with your approval.
One version:
Accounting for �Gay Standard Time� I was surprised that the first guests started showing up only a half hour after the party officially started, although it did take a little while for it to get going. �
Despite the lame jokes that some people make when they find out John�s hobby/semi-business, I�m usually somewhere else working on one of my own projects when John�s taking pictures, so this was the first time I met some of his models. Talking to them was an interesting opportunity to see how other people view John. It was all positive. �Not too surprising I guess, since if someone had not been impressed with John�s work they would not have bothered coming, or given him permission to use their photographs in the show.
One of the first to arrive was James, who told me how stressful it was every time he threw a party; did he buy enough drinks, how many people will flake out and not show, how soon would it take before someone sneaks off to have sex? �I told him that no one has ever gone off for a quickie at one of our parties. � Then again, our parties also don�t normally consist of only gay men, several of whom who had no problems with other folks seeing �em nude.
For this party, it turned out that we did buy enough drinks; only a few people didn�t show, and it only took a little over an hour before two guys who had just met that night to disappear down a path leading down the hill.
They were picking weeds and twigs out of their clothes after they came back up to watch the show of John�s work and they disappeared again after the presentation was over, but it didn�t bother me. �In fact I�m rather amused by their actions. �I just hope that they didn�t get bit by any spiders or anything while they were rolling around down there.
John borrowed different equipment from friends, setting up a system to use his computer and iPhoto to project a slideshow of the best of his photographs on to a large screen near the back of the garage. �Considering that most of the guests were the subjects of at least a couple of the shots, it�s not surprising that the show was well received, although truth is John is a good photographer. � His skills have grown over the years and after the show was over, he got a lot of compliments about his skill and eye. �He was told several times that he should consider going professional and got several recommendations that he try to publish a book or a calendar, or at least start a website.
Most of the work was �work place safe,� mixed with some artsy nudes, and a few more explicit shots. �One of the �rude� pictures was a �money shot� that impressed folks with John�s technical skills in high-speed shooting and lighting. � I guess it�s not as simple as point and click to get a picture like that where everything looks good and the guy doesn�t look like a total idiot. �
�Money shot� man was one of the no shows, and the next day sent John an apologetic e-mail writing that while he had no problems with John showing the photograph, and that while he rather liked the photograph, at the last minute he decided that didn�t want to be there when other people saw it. � An understandable reaction, although considering the nontechnical comments for it tended to be of the �that is so hot� variety, it probably wouldn�t have been too bad an experience.
Another more frank photograph featured a guy who had called John asking if it would be OK if he came to the party in shear pants with a thong underneath. �Considering that John was using a full frontal nude photo of him trussed up in leather gear, I personally didn�t really see the problem with the pants, but John left it to his discretion. � He wore them, but since the party was held outside at night, the effort was for naught. �It seems that in order to be seen in see-through clothing, you have be in a well lit room.
Some of the most popular photographs (and decidedly artistic looking) were of our friend Alex, a former professional model. �He always gets compliments for his looks, but I found it amusing that that night he had guys demanding that he grow his hair out. � While the stereotype of gay culture is that we are youth obsessed, he was getting critiqued because his hair was too short to properly show off how it was salt and peppered, since that was so sexy. �Those guys do have a point, gray hair is sexy.
Overall, it was an interesting night.
A different version:
The party was supposed to have started at eight, with a showing of John�s work at ten, but the first guest didn�t even arrive until ten-thirty, apologizing profusely for arriving so early, so the schedule got pushed back a bit. Luckily by eleven thirty, the party was full swing. �
Many of the guests had dressed in revealing outfits; wearing things like mesh tank tops and vinyl microshorts. I�m not sure if the clothes (or more accurately lack of clothes) had been chosen in the spirit of a male nude erotic art show, or if these guys were planning on heading out to bars afterwards, or if they just normally dressed like exhibitionists. �
There was a tense moment when two men who had arrived within minutes of each other were wearing the exact same outfit; Black K.C. slider sandals, a pair of �faux grease-smeared mechanic style� Hillfigger jeans, alligator skin Gucci belt and a crisp pink D&G dress shirt. � I thought there was going to be bloodshed when one looked at the other and said the words �International Male,� but there was a quick intervention from their friends and a compromise was reached where they both took off their shirts. �One guy was a pale skinned, white boi, while the other was a dark skinned, African-American man, so that apparently was difference enough to appease them. � An hour later, they were making out by the beer cooler, so it seems they were more than appeased. � �
When it looked like most of the guests had arrived, John turned down the music, and announced that the show was starting. �Borrowing different equipment from friends, he had set up a system to use his computer and iPhoto to project a slideshow of the best of his photographs on to a large screen near the back of the garage. � Considering that most of the guests were the subjects of at least a couple of the shots, it�s not surprising that the show was well received.
There were polite, semi-bored, murmurs of approval for the abstract and artsy shots, but it was the more racy and explicit photographs that got applause along with hearty wolf whistles. �The two most popular photos of the night were a shot of a well endowed Armenian man named Gevork doing rude things with his foreskin, and a close up, spread eagle, butt shot of a Latino body builder named Esteban. �
After the show was over everyone wanted to met and talk to Gevork and Esteban, but they both sort of quickly vanished. �There were rustling noises from the bushes further down the hill, so it was pretty obvious were they had disappeared to.
I had expected that most of the guests would thank John then take off when the show had ended, but that didn�t quite happen. �By 1:00 AM, John and I were cleaning up, hoping that people would get the hint and leave, but they didn�t. �I even started grabbing food and drinks out of their hands, but all they did was thank me for helping them watch their waistlines. �
When we had finished cleaning up, the patios were all empty except for a large pile of clothes, because the guests, not having any food or drink to consume, had all stripped and moved down the hill into the shrubbery. Claiming a headache, John went to bed, asking me to deal with the stragglers, so I grabbed a couple of beers and spent the next hour or so drinking, listening to the moans and groans echoing up the hill.
By 3:00 AM, I was ticked. �The party had been officially over for hours, but no one had left yet. �The sex noise from down the hill was getting louder with each minute, and I had lost track how many times men had screamed �I�m coming! I�m coming!�
Everyone was �coming,� but nobody had bothered to �arrive,� or more importantly, leave. With all the noise, it was amazing that none of the neighbors had bothered to call the police. �It was only a mater of time before someone did, and not feeling like explaining why there was an naked outdoor orgy going on in my back yard, I turned on the floodlights, but no one stopped. � In fact, a few guys stood up and started doing �shows.� �
A spanking demonstration was almost enough to make me forget I was annoyed, but when a steroid body builder sized guy named Sam lifted up a small Filipino man named Edgar, and held him up side down so that Esteban could play his ass like a set of drums, I decided that I had had enough and grabbed the garden hose, spraying everyone with cold water yelling �GET OUT! LEAVE! NOW! AHHHHH!!!� �
That did the trick, or rather ended the tricking. Strangely, no one complained that I had broken up the fun. In fact several guys thanked me for a wonderful time, and asked me to tell John to invite them the next time he had a party.
Finally, there were only two left, the body builder who had somehow gotten dressed without putting down the still naked Edgar, who he now had swung over his shoulder, wearing him like a bag of some sort. �I said goodbye to the two of them, but Sam didn�t leave. � Instead he looked down at me and said that he had another shoulder free, did I care to join them?
I still had the hose nozzle in my hand, so I let loose with the water. �For a big guy, Sam certainly does sequel like a little girl.
-nico