A while back I had a conversation with a group of fellow gay men about whether it's okay for a friend to sleep with another friend's ex. When I shared this story that I'm about to tell the whole group froze. I could feel everyone's eyes fixed on me, shooting rays of shock, judgment and disgust that roasted my flesh like a rotisserie chicken. I don't think anyone looked at me the same way for the rest of the discussion. I was afraid of that. I mean, it's not like I'm the only one that's ever done some triflin' underhanded shit. I'm just real enough to share my shit, in fact I know I'm not the only one, shit, as many homos as there in the conversation... LOL But now that I think about it, they got the abbreviated story, so I can kinda see why they felt the way they felt given that I never shared the state of mind I was in or the reason why I did what I did. Anyway, hopefully y'all will still love me after I share this.
It was Sunday, June 26th, 2005, the fourth Sunday in that month. In New York that is the day set aside every year for Pride festivities. On that day the gays literally take over New York, even more than we do every other day. While the gays were taking over New York I had plans for two gays in particular, myself and my boyfriend at the time, let's call him Michael, to take over another city, Philadelphia, about 90 miles away. At that time I was working as relief night night auditor at a hotel and my schedule really sucked. I worked every weekend, I was living at home and so was Michael so we really never got much of a chance to spend much quality time together (aka we didn't have the chance to fuck as much as I wanted to). I wanted us to get away but I only had two days off work in which to do it so we couldn't go too far. Philly was the perfect destination because it was far enough from the distractions of New York that we wouldn't be bothered by anyone but it was close enough that it wouldn't take a million years to get there.
On top of our time issues Michael and I just weren't getting along. We'd argue all the time and Lord knows I hate to argue. I felt that I was doing everything in our relationship and he contributed hardly anything, constantly taking me for granted. I was covering all the bases in our relationship, physically, emotionally, and definitely financially, did I mention financially? Not to get too cosmic on you but, he's a moody and at times bitchy Gemini and I'm an even tempered Leo, our upbringings were totally different from each other as well as our general outlook on life. They say opposites attract but we were steadily repelling. By that time we'd been together for about six weeks and I really liked him for the five minutes or so a day that he wasn't a total bitch or when we didn't fight. This being another one of my trademark, whirlwind relationships, we'd actually been through a lot in that short time, some of those things being, a major death in his family, his birthday, our sit down conversation with RuPaul in the Village, etc. I just didn't want things to end. I figured that this trip to Philadelphia and us having some time alone was just what the doctor ordered.
Maybe a week or two prior Michael and I were hanging out on Christopher Street. That usually consisted of me buying him weed and going to this dark ass park on Hudson Street to watch him and my ex-best friend Chuck smoke it. I've never touched marijuana or any illegal drugs for that matter in my whole life. I hated that he smoked that nasty shit, yet I used to buy it for him, among other things, like the cell phone he called every fuckin' body else but me on, including that guy from New Orleans he was fucking around with. I was so dumb back then, I digress. Anyway, one night on Christopher Street we met his friend, his best friend, let's call him Jerry. The moment we first laid eyes on each other, standing on Christopher between Hudson and Greenwich a few steps from Chi-Chiz, there was attraction. Jerry was so sexy to me. Michael was on a whole 'nother planet, ignoring me and anyone that wasn't him and didn't even realize what was happening between me and his friend.
While Michael and Chuck were doing their thing, Jerry and I got to talking. Though we were attracted to each other things were very innocent. I thought that Jerry was sexy as hell but my heart was still wrapped up in Michael. That night as me and Jerry talked we realized that we had so much in common, we were both raised in church, we both liked gospel music, and we were both homebodies. Jerry smoked weed, but hardly ever and he was actually in the process of trying to quit. He was just so nice and he actually listened to me and was genuinely interested in how I felt and what I had to say. It was such a breath of fresh air.
That night me, Michael, and Jerry went back to Brooklyn together on the train. When we got into the train Michael asked me for my iPod, something which he always seemed to be so fascinated by, and was sitting on the other side of the train, in another world listening to my extensive music collection obliviously while Jerry and I sat and talked. We were sitting there in his face, basically getting to know each other and Michael didn't say a word. Every so often I would look at him across the train and nothing, no reaction, no nothing. It's like he didn't care. As Jerry talked to me I can remember the movement of his full lips and the thin mustache that was wrapped around the top of them. I would have given anything to have those lips wrapped around my dick right then. Jerry was fuckin' sexy and so nice and we had so much in common and he listened to me. Damn, why couldn't I have met him first? As the train screeched toward his stop and he got up to exit, it took everything in me not to ask him for his number. I wanted to speak to him again. I wanted to kiss him. As much as I was attracted to him at the time I didn't think he felt the same way, at least not as strongly. We had shit in common and he was just being nice I figured. Once he left the train I turned and faced Michael, his aloof, indifferent ass, putting my earphones back in his ear after saying goodbye to his friend.
As days went by I never forgot about Jerry. I used to jerk off thinking about him, kissing those sexy ass lips of his and having them wrapped around my dick, laying next to him and just being with him. I didn't just want to fuck Jerry, I wanted to be with him. I wanted him to take me away from this passive-aggressive mess of a so-called relationship with his best friend that I was barely holding together with my good intentions. I wanted to call him so badly but I knew that there was no way for me to get in contact with him and that even though we had connected the way we did that he'd never betray his best friend. Maybe that's why Michael trusted him so much, that or he just didn't give a fuck about anybody but himself.
One night, again in the Village, only Chuck and I were hanging out, Michael and another friend of his had already gone home. I mean, I already bought the weed so why the fuck would he have to stay, right? We ran into Jerry and another friend of his in front of that supermarket on the corner of West 4th & Barrow. Jerry looked so damn good to me that night. I remember he had this white button down shirt on with pink stripes and he was talking to me again with those full lips and that thin mustache I'd been having so many illicit fantasies about. You'd think I would have gotten his number that night, right? Nope. All fantasies aside, I was still head over heels for Michael and Chuck was there with me. Even though he was supposed to be my best friend, Chuck had forged a weird weed smokin', sisterly bond with Michael. If I woulda asked Jerry for his number that night I know that bitch woulda told.
All this withstanding, I felt like our trip to Philly would be the cure to all of our relationship problems. So the day came, Sunday June 26th, we were gonna take the bus down that evening from Port Authority after making a quick in the Village by all the Pride festivities. I was running around like a madman all day doing all the necessary last minute things in preparation for our trip. I was really excited to go to Philly and just as excited to go to Pride that year because I'd never been before. Michael also informed me that we'd probably see Jerry out there before we left. Even though I'd been a while since I'd seen Jerry and I was grasping at straws, desperately trying to make this thing with Michael work out, the thought of seeing him again did excite me a bit.
As we were on our way from Michael's house he suggested that we skip the Pride festivities altogether and just go straight to Port Authority. I didn't want to do that because I had never been to Pride before and wanted to see it for myself. We argued about it. Michael didn't want to go because it was gonna be crowded and we had our bags. We didn't have a lot of bags though, it wasn't like we were going away for the rest of our lives here. He also stated that he'd been there many times before and didn't feel like going again. My argument was that I had never been before and that we were only gonna be there for a few minutes anyway. Like, what the fuck? Why did things have to be his way all the motherfuckin' time? Why couldn't he just work with me for once? He knew that I'd never been and that I was excited, what was the big fuckin' deal with dragging a bag for a couple of blocks?
Being that I was paying for the trip and everything else I won the argument. I was dragging his ass to Pride. I sat there in the aftermath, in the bittersweet victory of winning the argument we never should have had in the first place, listening to Keyshia Cole's "The Way It Is Album" (that had just dropped that last Tuesday) in silence. We hardly exchanged any words on our ride to West 4th that night. At that point I was having second thoughts about everything, about this trip, about this so-called relationship, about what the fuck was I doing here? Here I go planning all this shit and he's arguing with me about this one small thing. I just didn't understand. What more would I have to do? It was like his way or the highway all the time.
When we ascended from the subway station at West 3rd and 6th Avenue I saw that Michael was right. It was crowded, crowded as fuck, homos and lezzies as far as the eyes could see. I'd never seen anything like it before in my life. There were so many people that I talked to, messed with and hooked up with all in one place that we could have started a game of "This Is Your Life" right there on West 4th. I never acknowledged that Michael was right though. I was not gonna give him the satisfaction. I simply remained unbothered as we dragged our bags down the crowded sidewalk, bumping and pushing our way through the crowds. I wasn't gonna let that or Michael's constant sulking, whining, or bitching ruin my good time. If he wants to be an inconsiderate little bitch, then fuck him.
After a little while, Michael got his way and it was time to go. He mentioned that he wouldn't be able to say goodbye to Jerry before we left because Jerry was running late coming from church. I was a little disappointed. I know it was wrong and crazy but a part of me really wanted to see Jerry again. As we sat in the back of the taxi I just hailed, zipping up 6th Avenue, Michael got a phone call, yeah, on that phone that I'd been paying for. The call was from Jerry who had just got out of the train station, saying sorry that he missed us. They talked for a few minutes and then he asked to speak to me, just to say hello. I returned the pleasantry, nothing major, nothing incriminating anyway. I just enjoyed hearing the sound of Jerry's voice again. When Michael got off the phone he snuggled up next to me and it didn't feel right, suddenly it didn't feel so great anymore. Michael didn't look the same anymore and being with him didn't feel the same anymore. I was getting over him. I had a serious crush on my boyfriend's best friend.
While we waited for our bus at Port Authority everything Michael did just annoyed the shit out of me. I was so fuckin' tired of him and his bullshit. I was tired of him never having no damn money and always in my pocket for shit. I was tired of his annoying ass obsession with Beyonce. I was tired of him being so fucking ungrateful, thinking that everything I did for him I should be feel privileged to motherfuckin' do. Was he crazy? Did he see who I am and who the fuck he was? I was hanging around in the projects to be with this nigga. I had a good job, making good money, great for someone who was only 21 years old at the time. I didn't need this bullshit. As wrong as I realize I was now for thinking so aristocratically, he made me mad and it was how I felt at the time. You'd think with all of that pent up resentment that I would have just said fuck it and canceled the trip but I was way too much of a pussy for that. I figure I'd give it one last try and besides I was horny as shit.
So we arrive to Philadelphia late that night and I get jipped on an overpriced cab ride from downtown to our hotel across the Schuylkill River on City Line Avenue. We settle into our room and the first thing this nigga goes for is the pay-per-view, always tryna find a way to spend my motherfuckin' money. We had sex that night. I thought about Jerry the whole time, wishing that I was here with him instead of with Michael.
I woke up that next morning and went downstairs to the lobby for breakfast while Michael slept. I didn't bother waking him. I found out that I was too late to catch breakfast so I went back upstairs and saw that he was still asleep. Just then the most devilish thought came to my mind. I looked over Michael's nightstand at his cell phone, you know, the one that I was paying for. I picked it and took Jerry's number from it. I couldn't get Jerry off my mind and I had to speak to him again. After I programmed the number in my phone and carefully placed the phone back on the nightstand. I quietly snuck out of the room and went back down to the lobby to try to work out the breakfast thing and once I got that all squared away, I sat in a comfy, over sized chair and called Jerry.
Jerry and I talked for about a half hour. The conversation was totally innocent, nothing sexual at all. It was just good to get away from Michael and talk to someone else for a while. Which is funny because the whole point of this excursion was to get closer to Michael and here I go running away from him. I was still on the phone with Jerry as I walked back into our room, finding Michael awake this time. He asked me where I was. I replied, telling him that I was downstairs and continued my conversation. I walked over to the window, looking out on the Greater Philadelphia area, talking a mile a minute, knowing that Michael was wondering who I was talking to with such joy in my tone, so different from the inflection of misery and frustration in my voice when speaking to him as of late. I looked into Michael's questioning eyes and said into the phone:
"Oh, Jerry, Michael wants to speak to you."
Michael and Jerry talked like the girlfriends they were as he readied himself to come back downstairs with me. When they got off the phone we left the room and headed down to the lobby. As we sat in the restaurant, ready to feast on our fabulous free breakfast that I had to pull a few strings to get. Michael looked at me soberly and said:
"Adam, there's something I want to talk to you about.."
'Why, whatever could this be?' I thought as I chewed on my made-to-order bacon omelette and some of the sweetest strawberries I've ever tasted. When we got back to the room Michael went into this whole thing about how he doesn't want me to talk to his friends and how his friends, interestingly enough not Jerry though, have stolen boyfriends from him in the past, yadda, yadda, yadda. I just looked at him. At the end of his speech he basically threatened me, saying something to the effect of that he betta not catch me talking to one of his friends again. I looked at him stone faced as I laughed inside. Who the fuck does this nigga think he is? I'm a grown ass man, I talk to who the fuck I wanna talk to! Maybe if he knew how to treat a nigga his friends wouldn't be able to steal 'em from him.
What was funny was that through all of that I don't recall Michael ever asking me where I got Jerry's number from. And if he did I must have said some smooth ass shit to get myself out of that one. Honestly, I'm not even sure why I went about that the way I did. I never made a move on Jerry or talked to him on the phone again for the rest of the time I was with Michael. I guess I just wanted to light a little fire under his ass since he was taking me so much for granted.
Later that day we went out. I wanted to be a total tourist and take advantage of all Philadelphia had to offer. As we waited on City Line for the bus back downtown I was listening to my iPod. He asked me what I was listening to. It was Chaka Khan singing "Stormy Weather" from the "Classikhan" album. I put one of my earphones to his ear, hoping that we could share in this classical jazz moment. He quickly handed it back to me saying:
"I don't listen to this kind of music..."
What the fuck? What the fuck does he mean "this kinda of music"? Like real music, with fucking instruments and shit? Oh I'm sorry, that's right, if it's not a song by Beyonce then it's just not good enough for you is it? I mean, damn. I like Beyonce' as much as the next fag but he was ridiculous. Slightly annoyed, I took my earphone back and fully immersed myself back into the world of Chaka. Once we got off the bus, I dragged his lazy, no walking ass all over downtown Philadelphia. It wasn't Tahiti or San Tropez but this was my motherfuckin' vacation dammit and I sure as hell was gonna enjoy it, with or without him. He warmed up after a while though. We saw the Liberty Bell, which he actually got into, ate cheesesteaks at Jim's on South Street, and even pretended to pick out wedding/commitment rings on Jeweler's Row. We had a good day.
Later that evening we retired back to our room at the hotel. While he was in the bathtub singing Beyonce' songs at the top of his voice sounding like a cat getting fucked for the first time, by an elephant, Chuck called me. I told him that I was still thinking of Jerry, purposely omitting from the story my phone number espionage caper from earlier that day.
When we got back to New York things hadn't changed much between Michael and I. I escorted him back to his house and we quickly parted ways. That night was the first time I chilled with one of my current best friends, who you all know as Russell. He was dating my ex-best friend, Chuck at the time who turned out to be a much better friend to Michael than he ever was to me.
Pretty soon after that Michael and I broke up. We were too different. He was too broke and too busy calling that dude he was fucking with from New Orleans on the phone I was paying for. Do you know he got caught up in Hurricane Katrina dealing with that fool? He's fine though.
Remember, when I said that I didn't call Jerry for the rest of the time that me and Michael were together. Well, about four and a half months later in November of 2005 I called Jerry. We got together. All through the course of our relationship he felt as though he was wrong for getting with me after Michael had been with me. There were even days that he would talk to Michael and never mention that he was seeing me. As cool as Jerry was, like his friend Michael he was kinda on the broke tip as well, but unlike Michael he was working and at least grateful for any help I gave him. I never minded helping him though. We didn't have much money as a couple but we sure had a lot of fun. Jerry broke up with me in January, 2006 on suspicion of infidelity. I didn't cheat on him. We met up and chilled together for two days sometime early 2007. He annoyed me with his Beyonce obsession, among other things and I stopped calling him.
Fast forward three years later. Michael has caught back up with me online. He's back in New York, living in the same projects he used to live in. He's been flirting with me, throwing me hints but I've been paying his ass no mind.
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Playing In The Background...
"You Make Me Wanna..."
by Usher
from the album "My Way"
and
"I'm Not Perfect" feat. The Clark Sisters
by Missy Elliott
from the album "This Is Not A Test"
and
"You've Changed"
by Keyshia Cole
from the album "The Way It Is"
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Grace Jones "Hurricane"
Girls Aloud "Out Of Control"
Sugababes "Catfights And Spotlights"
