QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Cracking Up

Cracking Up
By Steve Prince
“You won’t think I’m a bad friend?” Alex asked, putting both of his hands on my shoulders. Behind him a sea of gay men flowed into the theater, most in pairs two-by-two. It was like a gay Noah’s Ark—the actual Bible story, not the terrible show.
“No!” I scoffed. “It’s fine. Go. I know you and Richard have a table. It’s not a big deal. Besides, I’m happy you two are so smitten for one another.”
The last sentence finally seemed to work. Alex’s face melted into relief. Then he gave me a hug and hurried into the theater to an awaiting and smiling Richard.
“Steeve,” Troy called out on the other side of the hall, “Are you coming upstairs with us?”
I waved and nodded my head.
You couldn’t actually pay me to sit in the expensive seats today. This was the third year in a row that the boys and I attended the Trevor Project’s Cracked X-mas event. We come every year because it’s fun, because it’s so gay, and because there’s an open bar; however, the event’s also a yearly marker of our friendships. We all met as volunteers for The Trevor Project—a suicide helpline for LGBT youth. For one night a year, the Wiltern Theater in Los Angeles becomes a hotspot for GLBT hob-knobbing amid a sea of orange banners—the Trevor Project color.
Alex was sweet to be so concerned about what Omar, Troy, Cody, and myself would think if he sat with Richard at one of the tables. It wasn’t that big of a deal to us. I mean, yes, I would rather he sit with us and the rest of the volunteers, but it was fine. He’s in a relationship which often means compromise.
“Everything okay?” Troy asked with a look of concern. Two at a time, I launched myself up half of the stairs, where he stood.
“Yeah,” I said. “Everything is great. Alex was just apologizing for not sitting with us.”
“Well,” Troy said in a snobbish voice, “he should—dumping us just because his boyfriend can afford expensive seats!”
I looked at Troy sideways. “You’re such a bitch,” I said jokingly though meaning it at the same time.
Without missing a beat, Troy answered, “I know.” He cleared his throat. “Tonight, you’re hanging with all the newly-single boys, so don’t bring up that adorable boy of yours, because it makes us jealous… let’s go!”
He took my arm and led me up the rest of the steps to the upstairs bar. We mingled through the crowd and finally found Cody and Omar.
“There she is!” Cody catcalled to me, while handing me a drink. Beside him stood a gorgeous Latin man with jet-black hair—Tommy.
Even though I’d met him several times already I was still taken aback by Tommy’s beauty. To say he looks like a model is an understatement. Of course he had a body fat index of negative four, but so did tons of other gays in Los Angeles. Tommy’s face was just… perfect. Even the small scar on his forehead looked as if it was meant to be there, touched by a really gay God.
I watched Cody look at him; his eyes danced as he watched Tommy talk. He was really falling for the guy. They initially met through a friend and planned on just hooking up. However, I guess you can’t choose who you fall for.
“So Steve,” Omar said with an obvious slur, already tipsy—Omar can’t turn down an open bar—”why didn’t you bring Peter?” he asked.

“He couldn’t get out of work tonight,” I lied.
Truth was that I had asked Peter if he wanted to come and we ended up having a fight. I just asked him to come and then he said it was too much pressure. Given the circumstances of Thanksgiving, Peter didn’t feel comfortable with many gay people around.
What really had transpired flashed in my memory burning hot and vivid with hurt.
“You work in West Hollywood,” I told him. “I’d think you’d be getting really comfortable with gay people by now. Maybe this could help you extend yourself. It would mean a lot to me.”
“It’s too much Steve,” he shot back. “I told you that I feel like I have to choose and I don’t want to.”
“What does that have to do with going out for one night with me?” I asked. “I’m not asking you to choose. Your Mom isn’t even IN Los Angeles anymore. How’s she gonna know? It’s just one night, Pete.”
“One night of listening to stories of gay kids that almost killed themselves because they have shitty parents like me,’ he yelled, some spit flying from his mouth. He swallowed hard and said, “No thanks.”
The intensity of his anger shocked me. “I’m…I’m sorry,” I mumbled, confused at what to say next.
We ended up making love—if I could call it that. It was definitely sex, but it seemed as of late sex with Peter was just angry and detached
“Don’t you think, Steve?” Troy said.
“Huh?” I said, Troy’s voice snapping myself from the memory. The tinkle of ice in people’s glasses grew louder as I became gradually aware of the room again.
“I said, ‘Don’t you think it’s pretty neat that we are all still volunteering?'” Troy said again.
“Oh,” I said clearing my throat, “yeah, totally amazing.”
I looked around. “Where’s Cody?”
Omar looked across the room longingly. “He’s with Tommy,” he sighed.
“They went to go smoke,” Troy said.
“Well, let’s mingle,” I said. The boys agreed. With me leading, we snaked through the crowd, stopping every now again to say hello to someone we knew.
Suddenly Omar’s hand clenched on my shoulder.
“Oh my God,” he gasped, “it’s Alan McCree!”
Troy and I both collectively rolled our eyes.
Alan McCree is one of those guys that Omar could never stop loving. They’ve known one another for over five years. Alan is also a volunteer. Here’s the problem…Alan has a boyfriend, a very long-term boyfriend. That said Alan and Omar always make out at least once when they see one another. However, the last time Omar saw Alan, Omar wasn’t single; hence, no making out. Tonight Omar was free as a bird or more like horny as a frat boy.
Alan spotted Omar as Omar made a beeline towards him as well. They began flirting instantaneously.
“Well,” Troy said flatly, “we’ve lost him.”
I nodded my head. Troy and I decided to go find Cody and Danny. After mingling for twenty minutes we finally did. Cody sauntered up to Troy and I with a grin.
“Where have you been?” I asked.
Cody looked around to make sure no one was listening. “We totally just had sex,” Cody giggled.
“What?” we asked in unison.
Cody continued to giggle. “Yeah! We went for a smoke and then went to the upstairs bathroom and did you know there’s a third balcony that they’ve closed off for the event tonight? Well, we totally snuck up there and one thing led to another and we banged our dicks off.” Cody sighed, “I’m so falling for this guy.”
Troy and I stood in amazement. Only Cody.
Cody took a gulp of his drink. “Tommy’s just talking to one of his friends. He said he would meet us at our seats. Shouldn’t the show be starting soon?”
I looked at my watch. “Oh yeah,” I said startled, “we have five minutes.”
Troy bobbed up and down, “I’m going to bathroom. Meet you at the seats.”
Cody looked at me. “Want to grab a drink?” he asked.
I nodded.
Five minutes later, Cody and I walked down to our seats. Omar had already seated himself by Alan. I looked down at my ticket. Alan was sitting in my seat, which normally wouldn’t have been a big deal. However, as I looked at the row there were only five seats available—one for me, one for Troy, one for Cody, one for Tommy, and one for Omar.
“Sugar,” I said leaning down to Omar’s ear to be discreet, “I don’t think we have enough seats.”
Omar looked at me. “Well, there are some seats up there that are open.” He pointed to the top of the balcony, about twenty rows above us, his tone assuming that I should sit up there.
I looked at him annoyed. “No sugar,” I said, “Momma paid for her seat.”
Assessing the situation, Cody had already been talking to someone he knew in the front row, three rows in front of us.
“Omar,” he said waving, “these folks up here are two people short tonight. Why don’t you both sit here?”
Minutes later, problem solved, Cody and I sat in our seats and Tommy joined us. I couldn’t help but look at his ass while he passed me. I would so go to Rimtown on that. The lights dimmed and the show began with a musical act.
“Where’s Troy?” Cody whispered in my ear.
I shrugged my shoulders.
It was ten minutes later until Troy came and found his seat beside me, grinning.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m soooo more than okay,” he said trying to keep his excitement down. “I just met the hottest guy in the line for the bathroom,” he said. “I mean, who knew right? I always felt bad that women had to wait in bathroom lines, but now I think maybe that’s how lesbians get some action.”
I smiled. “Where’s he sitting?”
Troy turned to his left and pointed. Sitting to our left about four rows behind us sat an adorable twink. He waved. He looked like a blond Zac Efron…and he looked thirteen-years-old.
“How old is he?” I asked.
Troy glistened with excitement. “Nineteen!”
“Jeeezus,” I said, “Troy, you’re thirty-three.”
“I know it’s perfect,” Troy said. “And he—oh wait.” Troy pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’s texting me!”
Troy began furiously texting back. I tried to ignore him and listen to the Gay Men’s Chorus of Los Angeles sing the opening number. Still, it was hard not to notice that Troy texting for ten minutes. Finally, I felt too annoyed not to say anything.
“Are you gonna watch this or not?” I snapped.
“Oh sorry,” Troy said, putting up the phone, “right.”
I don’t know why I felt so annoyed but I could feel myself wanting to fume. That’s stupid Steve, I told myself, just enjoy the show.
Finally ten minutes later, I’d forgtotten all about Troy’s texting. As the presenter spoke, I heard a giggle in front of me. I looked down three rows and saw Omar and Alan completely making out in the front row balcony in front of Jesus and everyone. My mouth dropped. In the dark of the theater, I think I could actually see their tongues lashing about.
Suddenly I found myself even more annoyed. I looked over to bitch to Troy but he was busy glancing behind making eyes at the nineteen-year-old twink.
“Excuse us,” Cody said in my ear.
I turned. He and Tommy stood up.
“Where are y’all going?” I asked.
They both smiled. Cody mouthed the words, “THIRD BALCONY!”
They crossed in front of me, yet this time I felt too pissed to even notice Tommy’s hot ass. Why did we come to this together if everyone is going to just fawn all over their respective boyfriend? It wasn’t five minutes later, when Troy whispered in my ear, “Hey,” he said. “Kyle’s going to come with us to eat after the show, ok?”
“Who’s Kyle?” I asked.
“The nineteen-year-old,” Troy said with an expression that implied I should know by now.
I’d forgotten our plans to all go to dinner after the show. It was a tradition for us to walk a block up Wilshire and go to the Denny’s right by the theater. Yes, it wasn’t fancy. In fact, it was a shitty Denny’s but it was tradition—a tradition that no one seemed to care about this year.
“Fuck this,” I said.
I got up out of my seat and I squeezed out of the row. Seconds later, I burst through the doors of the Wiltern Theater, the cool night air bracing across my flushed face.
“Ah fuck,” I said realizing that I hadn’t driven to the theater tonight; I’d ridden with Troy. Thankfully, I didn’t live that far from the theater and decided to walk home.
As I trudged up Western Avenue towards Hollywood I felt myself getting angrier and angrier, not at the boys—but at myself. Even though I felt disappointed that we weren’t spending time together, mostly I was jealous. Jealous that I couldn’t kiss my boyfriend on the front row. Jealous that I couldn’t text and flirt with him in public. Jealous that I couldn’t sit in the expensive seats with him and show him off. Jealous that Peter and I couldn’t fuck in a balcony.
Suddenly I realized I missed the boys more than ever and I wish I hadn’t left, but I was too proud to go back. So instead, I walked home, the crowded cars oblivious to me.
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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
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge
Gettin’ It Done
Here You Cum Again
Eye Of The Beholder
The Present
A Minute’s Pause
Brotherly Love
Ladies Who Lunch
Here Cums The Rain Again
Dinner For Two
Blow by Blow
Commando
Cum As You Are?
Aftershock!
Caught in the Act
The Great Compromise
The Tipping Point
Cross Country
In Stereo
Get Smart
Blind Faith
The Dirty Mexican
A Few Good Men
Peter’s End
Getting Stuffed
The Good Boy