Friday, February 24, 2006

Country Boys are the Best Kind of Boys to Have

That’s what you think. However, I digress; you will understand why they are possibly not the best boys to have. No offense to you southern gentlemen ...I'm talking about a real country boy.

The festivities of July 4th Gay Pride in Los Angeles and a good friend visiting for the weekend were enough to keep me physically and emotionally pumped up. There was confidence in my walk, my talk and my eyes. Al and I planned to go to all of the events this year.

The 1st of the events was the ATB Banquet, where the attire was semi-formal. It’s a shame that there are so many Angelinos that just do not know what that means. Multiple people appeared at the door in linen pants and summer shirts of different styles and colors. However, inappropriate the dress of its attendees, the event was a success and there were many beautiful men at the banquet and even more lingering around the hotel lobby.

There was only one man I was interested in that night and that was Don from Detroit. He actually was not attending the banquet but was walking around looking for someone he had met earlier that day to escort him to meet the performer of the night, Jenifer Lewis.

Don was a little lost looking for the banquet room and with my new found confidence, I asked making sure that I gave him all of the elegance and class of a well trained aristocrat, “You seem a little lost is there anyway that I can assist you?”

With teeth as white as pearls newly excavated from their resting place, He said, “That’s very nice of you to ask. Would you please show me where people from the Banquet will be meeting Jenifer Lewis after her show?”

“I’d be happy to”, I sung.

As I began leading Don to the location, he grabbed my arm and said, “You are certainly a handsome man.”

“Thank you, I think you’re handsome as well.” I replied.

So as not to get into the story of Don from Detroit, since he is definitely not a country boy, let’s head to the meat of this tale.

The next day was the annual Pool Party, this year to be held in Ladera. Off we went, for more fun and boys. As we parked the car and began walking down the hill to the house where the party was being held, Al turns to me and says, “There’s your friend”.

As low as Al speaks sometimes I didn’t even hear him and walked right by Don who was sitting in his date from the previous night’s car. Startled I turned and said “Hey I didn’t even see you!”
We chatted for a moment and he whispered in my ear that he had wished he had come to the pool party with me. His friend was now closing the door to the car to leave and I bid them both adieu.

Suddenly Al and I were vacuumed in to a plethora of men. The party was really jumping. People were in the pool, dancing, drinking, eating and socializing. After being at the pool party for some time and socializing I found myself standing alone contemplating what would make some men walk out of the house in some of the outfits that they wore looking as if they just stepped off of a Paris runway in an alley.

I turned to the side because I felt a presence near me. It was a good looking man about 5’10 175lbs slightly muscular but by far a gym rat. He said hello as I looked in his big doe like eyes. I responded with a hello and a demure smile. I was distracted by the commotion of a queen bustling by my side and turned away briefly. When I turned back to my surprise the bronze figure had vanished into the mass of legs, ass, chest and way too much skin for some.

I continued on with my group and enjoyed the rest of the pool party until it was time to leave to get ready for the Catch One’s July 4th night. It was a very disappointing turn out for the Catch one on this night. With Klymaxx attempting to revive their career from the early 90’s no one was impressed and barely present. I was almost tempted to walk the club and count the number of people that had attended this night. It would not have been difficult to do this night.

As the club began to bore me as it usually does I decided to look for visual entertainment by watching people dance. I leaned against the bar on the dance floor with a Diet Coke in my hand and wishing it was still legal to smoke in public places in California. I leaned against the middle of the bar and again felt this presence to my right. About three feet from me at the end of the bar was this bronze man. I thought he was attractive but it’s not my style to stare and my self inflicted lack of confidence would not allow me to approach him. I had regressed to my normal attitude of thinking most men would not be interested in me. Moments later this bronze figure approached me and said you were at the Pool Party today weren’t you. I said, “Yes I was, you saw me there?” His response was affirmative to which I question, “Well why didn’t you speak to me there?”

His quick reply was, “I did”. Then I realized who this bronze figure was when I again looked into his eyes. He was the Bronze Doe-eyed man. After I offered my apologies for not remembering him instantly we chatted awhile. His behavior seemed a little strange as if he too was on a date. When I asked him to confirm this he informed me that he was in fact not on a date but just with some friends.

Through my conversations with him I found out that his name is Benn, and he’s from Natches, Mississippi only arriving in Los Angeles 7 months ago. After more idle conversation and Benn’s need to keep checking with his friends we decided to exchange telephone numbers in the manner that most people do in the Millennium, using our cell phones. Before we departed each others company Benn made it clear to me that he wanted to spend next weekend with me. Shocked by his request, I said, “You do?”

Quickly he replied, “Yeah I do.”

Pondering his request and not wanting to be perceived as a readily available concubine, I retorted, “Will discuss that later.”

Later came and so did the weekend where I picked up this Country boy with an ass like two basketballs in an equipment bag. Lust consumed me as I was ready to devour this 26 year old Virgo from Mississippi. Benn had some very child like qualities displaying a shyness that caused him to look down at the floor and smile whenever I looked at him.

“This is going to be fun!” I thought. As soon as we walked into my home we began kissing to consummate the welcoming to each others lives. The rest of this weekend would not be fitting to discuss in this forum as it would border on pornography so the details of our first physical encounter will now be halted.

After the weekend of course I had to discuss my meeting with friends. The most prevalent comment was, “You’re lucky, Country Boys are the best kind of boys to have. Gushing I felt like I had just hit the lottery and after a respectable amount of time to get to know this southern gentleman would eventually live happily ever after.

Benn and I spoke with each other daily after our weekend of rapture. Due to his heavy southern accent and suspected speech impediment that I’m too unfamiliar with to name, it was sometimes difficult for me to hear or understand what mister man was attempting to communicate. After multiple requests for him to reiterate I usually would get the gist of his statements.

As 2 weekends past we began to enjoy one another’s company more. I was pretty comfortable with him even though he was lacking in the sophistication department. With that in mind I felt like I could still manage to spend some time with this brotha. After all he had displayed nothing but sweetness and genuine affection towards me.

This brings me to our 3rd weekend together. As I was leaving work on Friday after an absolutely dreadful week of witnessing intensified corporate jargon, lobbying, disrespect and plain ole ass kissing, my cell phone rings. I look at the display on my cell and it is Benn. I answered the phone as I mustered up the most pleasant voice I could find left in my body. On the receiving end of the call I heard much stactic and Benn’s garbled voice saying, “Hel hel hallo this is Benn. I was callin tah let you know I’m on 3rd and Broadway. I was coming tah see you.”

Fire filled my throat to fuel the explosion that was in countdown mode in my head and rapidly rushing to my lips. Remember the sweet simple country boy I was dealing with I extinguished the fire in my throat and thwarted the explosion and queried, “Benn did we talk about us seeing each other today?”

“Uh uh I jus wonted to spen some time wit you cuz you said dat we needed to spen more time gittin to know one each otha.”

“Benn I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I said exasperated.

He has no clue that getting to know each other to folks in the city is not interpreted to mean, I have to be with you at every waking moment and everyday.

“O oh okay baby”, he replied unaware of my frustration or ignoring it. I’m not sure which.

As I approached the very congested downtown area I called Benn to find out his exact location. In a style that I would soon find out was his normal behavior, his reply was less informative than I required.

“Do you wan me tah uh start walkin up Broadway?” he interjected.

“No, I’m coming down 3rd, what side of the street are you on?” I blurted.

“I kin walk up Broadway if that’ll make it easy fah you”, he said as I was quickly approaching Broadway and still didn’t know which side of the street he was on.

So as not to dredge on with this foolhardy conversation between Benn and I, I finally picked him up with a very ominous looking and heavy bag in tow. Of course after circling the block a couple of times because he would not stay on one side of the street. This bag indicated to me that his intention was again to spend the weekend with me.

Even though I like Benn I was not going to allow him to force his way into my life before I really got to know him. Therefore, I thought that it was imperative that I broach this discussion with him. Granted I’m sure I could have found a better approach but the fire was in my throat once again, this time hotter than the last. “I see you brought your bag with you were you planning on spending the weekend with me again?” I inquired.

“Well uh yeah, but I don’t wanna bover you so if you don want me heah you kin take me home”, he said defensively.

Can you say fuming! “Wait a minute Benn, this has nothing to do with whether you are bothering me or not. This has to do with you not respecting me and you taking liberties with my time. I just got off of work and before I even get home to take a shit you have called me and asked me to pick you up from downtown during rush hour traffic. We did not discuss you coming over here for the weekend. I think it is presumptuous of you to think that I did not have any other plans. I’m not saying that you are bothering me, however, you should talk to me about your intentions before you assume that I’m going to be ok with a decision that you’ve made all by yourself.

At this point Benn pouted,” My best frien says I’m too nice errbody say dat I’m too nice. I just don wanna be a bova to nobody. It seem lak people jus wanna be treated bad.”

“Ok Benn, you being nice or not has nothing to do with what I’m saying. Do you understand what I’m saying to you about respecting my time and space?”, I recounted.

At this point Benn simply shut his eyes real tight and said nothing. We got to the house and that’s when it hit me. He had told me that he had not really made any friends in L.A., and the people that he had met all wanted to sleep with him. Also, upon his arrival to L.A. he found himself in a relationship with an older man. I mean like fifty something, and not in the early fifties!

I approached him with my new found revelation, “Benn I think that the reason that you are wanting to spend as much time as you do with me so early in our friendship is because I am really the only friend that you have here. Also, you don’t really have anything to do when you are not working.”

Oh God! That’s the other thing, since I met him I found out that he worked at Home Depot as a Forklift Driver. Now I have nothing against Forklift drivers, he’s making an honest living after all. However, everyday our conversations and throughout most of them as well, the content consisted of the daily episodic goings on of Home Depot Monrovia, either that or what B horror movie he watched today or likes. I will spare you from the details of these conversations as they will only incite you to click the X in the top corner of this document.

I then asked him, “Is that how you feel? You can tell me. Get if off your chest, I know I said a lot to you, how do you feel?”

Still no comment but again the eyes closed, and closed tight.

“Benn, why are you closing your eyes? Why can’t you look at me? Let me know what you’re feeling? Just get it off your chest.”

Moments later and still no words escaped from his lips, but suddenly he brushes his chest. In my opinion this was to jovially indicate getting something off his chest.

I was offended and let him know with the full force of the explosion that had be heating up inside me since his intrusive visit occurred.

“I can’t believe that you are mocking me like that. What the fuck is your problem? I’m sitting here talking to you seriously and expressing my concern about our relationship as you sit there like a 7 year old not saying a motha fucking thing like you’re feelings are hurt. And on top of it all, you make a mockery of what I’m saying,” I roared.

“No, no, no, dere was some lint on mah shirt from when I grabbed at my cell phone and I was just brushin it off. I always do dat.,” he pleaded.

Immediately I attacked, “You must think that I’m a stupid motha fuckah and if you think I’m going to stand here in my own house while you make me seem like an ass you got another thing coming.”

No, no baby you got it wrong I always do dat.,” he pleaded once again.

I stood up to walk away from this infuriating situation, when he grabbed my arm to pull me back. To this I snatched away from him at the same time yelling, “Take your mother fuckin hands off of me!”

His face began to contort and mouth moved as if some invisible force was molding it in an askew fashion and looked as if he was about to say something, or was he about to burst into laughter. I had difficulty discerning.

I didn’t know what to make of all of this including my own outburst. I contained myself and offered to him, “I know it must be hard for you moving from as far away as you have to here not knowing anyone. But you can’t expect me to be everything to you. I have a life and friends here and just because you are in my life now I’m not going to put my whole world on hold.” Continuing my efforts to repair this situation I offered to drop the whole conversation.

At this point we both were getting hungry as the evening was approaching its midpoint. A meal is always a good way to relax individuals, so off to eat we went. This was the first time that I noticed the infantile manner in which he grabbed his fork like he was making a fist and feverishly attempting to saw at the tender meat on his plate as if he was sawing wood without the skills necessary to make a cut. I was angst to come to his rescue. After all, if we were going to be together we would definitely be attending a banquet or dinner where the proper use of eating utensils would be essential.

After showing this Southern Gentleman the art of using a knife and fork, he immediately went back to fumbling with his tools. To which he informed, “I usually just pick up my meat with my hands and don’t use a knife.” Oh yes I have experienced this barbaric manner of him feeding himself at none other than the Cheesecake Factory, Pasadena. Not that the Cheesecake Factory is the most elegant of dinning facilities, however the pasta consumption that I witnessed there was enough to make me scream. To give you a picture of that event, you will have had to seen the famous Disney cartoon Lady and the Tramps, spaghetti eating scene, however the lady and the tramp were able to suck long strands of pasta with out the sauce splattering over their faces and my shirt. Cute you might be saying to yourself, maybe not when the first large bit of pasta and shrimp in his mouth had not been chewed enough for swallowing before another large portion entered his orifice. One might think that this would have been uncomfortable for the consumer to hold so much food in their mouth. Ah, my dear friend, not for Benn, as he would hold that first portion in the cheeks of his mouth like a chipmunk to accommodate not just one more fork full but two. One forkful for this left and right cheeks and a 3rd hefty helping to chew while he held the awaiting morsels for the next forkful.

Now I could go on and on about Benn’s southern “appeal”, his eating habits, indecisiveness, martyr like comments and continual itsy bitsy lies. However, I will spare you the multiple sighs that would flee from your body effortlessly.

The saga of “Country Boys Are the Best Kind of Boys to Have” continues with an increased number of uncontainable explosions. As his sex has become like a jellyfish on a Las Vegas sidewalk, attempting to enjoy the offerings of this southern gentleman are replicating that same scenario. Soon that jellyfish will disintegrate until no one will even remember it was there.

Not very long after my thing with the country boy was over. My patience was really bad with him and that is not a good thing and no matter what, no one deserves to be yelled at constantly. Even if they aren' t trying to do anything to educate themselves.


Terrence said...

Interesting story. LOLOL!!!

One year, I'll get to ATB.

And when are you going to write a book? While I always enjoy your writing, I really enjoyed your writing on this piece, D.

Marz said...


I don't know. I think you were kind of mean to him. But maybe I'm just overly nice. (NAH!) Eating spaghetti with your hands. that's too much. He's the kind you feed inside, or go out and bring him a doggy platter (with a bib).