QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)

EDITOR’S NOTE: Before you read this one, be sure to read Intimate Portrait (Part Uno).
Intimate Portrait, Part Deux
By Steve Prince
I rounded the corner of Santa Monica Boulevard and Robertson. Dammit, I thought, there’s never parking in West Hollywood! It’s probably the worst parking in the city. I once got a ticket for not turning my tires. NOT TURNING MY TIRES! Ridiculous.
However, I wasn’t going to let a little thing like parking deter me from my quest for intimacy. I was a man on a mission and I’d be damned to let parking get me down. Oh no, I got to keep on moving!
I finally found a spot. As I shut my car door, I noticed the day’s heat still hanging in the early evening air with summer coming quickly to Southern California. Soon Santa Monica Boulevard would be crowded with shirtless boys, their tanned shoulders dotting the sidewalk like a colony of ants commanded by their queen to march onward.
“What the hell are we doing here?” Troy squawked as the crowd parted in front of me, allowing my best friend to come into view. Sometimes, I forget what a nice looking guy Troy is. As he smiled, his white teeth gleamed and his tanned dimples framed his strong jaw.
“I’m on a mission,” I said determinedly.
“Yeah, you said that,” Troy said following in my wake as I walked past him, “a mission for what?”
I quickly filled him in on Carlos’, Mother Norman’s, and Nico’s account of intimacy.
Once I had finished, I looked at Troy, hoping to get an answer.
“Well,” he said making a face as if someone had just farted, “you’re not going to find intimacy in West Hollywood. It’s just sex here.”
“Exactly,” I said, as we both began walking to Motherload, the bar of choice for tonight. “It seems that a lot of gay men equivocate sex with intimacy and I don’t know if that’s necessarily so.”
“Well, that’s what Omar did,” Troy said flatly.
“Huh?” I didn’t follow.
“Well, remember how slutty Omar was?” he asked. “Then he got a boyfriend and poof!”
Troy had a point. It’d been a long time since Omar had gone out with any of us. He used to make the rounds regularly with all of us. However, all that changed when he met Nathan.
Ironically, the bar where Nathan and Omar met was the bar we were headed—Motherload. I remember that Omar, who was usually very brazen, kept staring at a Latin man across the room. As Alex, Cody, Troy, and I talked in a circle sipping on our cocktails, Omar kept staring distractedly towards the far corner. Finally, I’d had enough.
I set my drink down and crossed the bar floor.
“Excuse me,” I said, catching the Latin guy off guard. He looked at me blankly. I decided to keep talking before he could interrupt.
“I’d like you to meet my friend that you keep looking at,” I said motioning to Omar. “Are you good with that?”

He looked past my shoulder, smiled at Omar and uttered, “Uh, sure.”
That was six months ago. During that time something happened to Omar that none of us thought would ever happen—he became Mr. Relationship. You had to admit it was a far cry from the Omar we became friends with. I mean, this was Omar! The same Omar who once stuffed a dollar down some stranger’s pants just because he thought he was cute. The same Omar who once left the bar at 2am, picked up a guy waiting for a bus, took the guy back to his apartment, had sex with him, let him stay the night, had sex with him the next morning, THEN went to brunch with him and came back to his apartment to have sex ONE MORE TIME, then took him home… without ever finding out the guy’s name.
We always assumed that Omar just loved sex. He’d never mentioned getting a boyfriend or even dating someone seriously. For him it was always “on to the next guy.” However, now that he was in a relationship, he had no desire to sleep with other men. I know because I asked him.
“No,” Omar said quietly, “I’m good.”
“Really?” I said, “Don’t you miss it?”
“No,” he said quickly. “I prefer the trade-offs. I’d much rather wake up everyday to the same face then go to bed with a stranger every night.”
Omar’s statement surprised me because that’s exactly what Omar had been doing the first two years of our friendship; it was always a new guy every weekend. I mean, I’m not judging. Lord knows, I’ve done it myself. The entire time, I’d wondered if Omar actually wanted a relationship but for some reason was unable to admit it. Instead, he just gave him self physically to all these guys hoping the emotional aspect would fit somewhere into the game plan.
I think Troy hit the nail on the head. Perhaps Omar thought he wanted to have sex with all these guys when what he actually wanted was to connect with them. The trouble is that we men aren’t often given permission to be emotional without getting our cocks involved. It sounds like Omar might have fallen victim to that narrow-minded type of thinking. That’s one of the problems with society—it often does the thinking for us, and we often let it. Then we end up living up to social expectations without ever actually defining our own.
“Hey,” Troy said interrupting my thoughts, “is that Cody?”
I looked through the bar door. Sure enough, there was Cody&madsh;dancing in next to nothing, while some man slipped a dollar down his g-string.
“Let’s go say hi,” Troy said with a smile.
We walked into the bar and had been there only a minute before Cody saw us.
“Heeeey!” he said with cheerful glee. He hopped down from the dance podium and gave us both a hug. I couldn’t help but notice the jealous looks Troy and I received from some of the other patrons.
“Perfect timing, ” Cody said with a sigh while fanning his sweaty brow with a trucker hat. “It’s time for Momma’s break! Let’s go to the patio.”
We made our way outside. Cody drew a cigarette to his month and lit it.
“I didn’t know you were coming out tonight,” he muttered while puffing the cigarette to light.
“We weren’t,” Troy said looking at me.
“Well…” I began and filled Cody in on my mission.
“Girl,” he said slapping my chest, “you are on a mission!”
“Tell me about it,” Troy said rolling his eyes and taking a sip of beer.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked.
“About intimacy?” Cody said with a grin.
“Well yes,” I said exasperated. Why was he stalling?
“Why don’t you ask him?” Cody pointed behind me and I turned around.
It was Kelly. He was walking straight towards me with a grin on his face.
Well, shit the bed.
Yes, I know I promised to wrap it up, but how was I supposed to know Kelly was going to come into the picture? Come back for the third and FINAL part next week. -SP
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles—he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait