|
I got a job at the Barn Dinner Theater
I got a job at the Barn Dinner Theater: a building shaped like
a barn with dining tables banked in 3 tiers around a central square.
A delicious buffet was served in the square area; we waiters just
served coffee and drinks, cleared tables, no taking orders or
anything like that. Once everyone had time to finish his or her
meal, the buffet was cleared, the show announced and a stage descended
into the square from above. Tips were fabulous, especially if
the people liked the show, as we were the recipients of their
thanks. Id come back to the dorm my pockets stuffed with
bills, my stomach full of good food, and totally entertained as
well. Talk about the perfect job? That was it. Different casts
came through, all kinds of actors and actresses and singers. Types
who settled for this kind of touring existence having been beaten
up pretty bad trying to survive in New York City. We had time
to get to know each other, and so I met people unlike any I had
ever met. One winter Sunday night one of the guys invited me to
fly back to New York with some of them just for a brief visit.
I called home from Radio City Music Hall and asked Mom to guess
where I was. It was great. The city had garbage piled high everywhere
as a result of a strike and the wind was icy, but it didnt
matter. I was insecure and a little lost feeling, but it didnt
matter. My friends lived in really cheap places and seemed pretty
stupid. None of it mattered. I was in New York City! Later on
during my college years there were a lot of trips there, and it
always got better. The more you learned the more fun you had.
Never had a problem there, nothing but fun. Still, on that first
trip I hadnt had sex.
The closest I got was being propositioned by a marginally attractive
older man who gave me a lift when I was thumbing back to school
at Carolina one weekend. He had a magazine in the glove compartment
of straight couples fucking, but pictures of that kind did nothing
for me, and he certainly didnt and I remember thinking as
most virgins do- I want my first time to be special.
Looking back the weirdest aspect of all is that that was about
the only time in my life when someone tried to sneak in to having
sex with me. All the stories of dirty old men and sexual predators
have no relation to my reality. It somehow just never happened
to me. And if you knew how much I thumbed, and the sleazy places
I checked out, and how I dressed, you would be as disbelieving
of it as I am.
Then another event added more water to the river of my deliverance.
The Canadian Ballet performed Carmina Burana in the campus auditorium.
I had first night seats having no idea what to expect, as Id
never been to a dance performance before. I was blown away. Not
only did I watch every performance while they were there, but
I showed up early the next day and got into the auditorium while
they were rehearsing. One of the soloists Erica Jong saw me there
and welcomed me in. We went places together; she took me to a
health food store, the only one in Raleigh at that time, and then
selected my first classical music records. It was great. I even
went to their hotel one night after the show. Ok, lets backtrack
again a bit. Growing up I had little natural rhythm as far as
dancing goes. Dancing was something Id try in my room with
the door shut and if the door knob turned Id jolt so severely
youd think Id been caught jacking off (which by the
way, I never was). I went to dances in high school and felt clumsy
and awkward, and one time took Becky to a Beachboys concert in
Greensboro. She could clap in perfect time to the music, even
that impressed me. (So much for two years of piano with Mrs. Campbell.)
On roller skates I did fine, so maybe with dance it was a matter
of not knowing the steps, at least partly. The other part was
growing up Southern white. Wait till you hear how I conquered
all that! Well, back to the story line
. When the Canadian
group left town I started taking ballet lessons at The Raleigh
School of Dance Arts. Walter, the owner and teacher was about
as nice as anybody could be. He was sort of interested in me,
but never pushed it. He lived in the back of the studio and there
was a little dressing room where Id change. I was often
the only guy in the class, sometimes one or two others, but I
was definitely the only one of legal age! So nights and weekends
I spent plieing and ronde jambing with 30 or so little girls.
To be quite honest, I loved it. I got pretty good fast. It was
another world.
Until this time I had been coming home every weekend. The excuse
was to help with the rink, but it was just cause I liked being
at home. But now my weekends got spent rehearsing or something.
Mom and Dad werent thrilled with my dance lessons and Grandma
said It might be fun, but it will never get you anywhere
But dancing was to take me everywhere.
So now Im 21 and that summer I stay in Raleigh in a little
rented house I shared with a cool foreign design student, Fritz.
He had the accent and everything, and was a great roomie. Out
at the dinner theater the show featured a young cast doing a spoof
on a melodrama. Dan was the likeable, very cute and friendly Hero.
I got to enjoy talking to him, and he always seemed ready to talk
to me. Out of the blue I invited him to spend a day at the lake
never dreaming he would. He said yes immediately. So were
sitting on the pier and the suns going down and all of a
sudden Im hearing myself tell him how happy I was that he
had come with me and that I didnt understand why I enjoyed
him so much. He looked at me sort of funny and then asked what
did I mean I didnt understand. When I just sat there looking
confused he said My God! You mean youve never been with
a guy! The rest of the family had gone back home and we had the
house to ourselves. That night in grandmas bed he introduced
me to myself. I never imagined it feeling so right and so good
and so strong. Looking at myself in the mirror the next morning
I had imagined seeing shame, but all I saw was a supremely happy
guy. For his next performance Dan had to use extra makeup, as
I had left big hickeys all over his neck. The cast
loved it. They were so nice to me after that. Another thing I
left was a lot of pubic hair in grandmas bed. She freaked
out. But since mom never paid her any mind it was left unexplored
as to why. (Either the freaking or the hair.) All summer long
we had oral sex every chance we got. One night in a motel he tried
fucking me and I ended up crying. It hurt like I thought it would
and I couldnt understand why it was such a big deal to him.
But for the first time in my life I felt attractive, well, even
beautiful as he kept saying. It was a perfect introduction to
being gay and I am lucky to have met him. He was 27 at the time,
just old enough to be in charge, and still young enough to be
sincere and open. In the back of my mind I knew the show would
move on and fall semester would start. He cried when the time
came, but I was ready a little for it to be over. He finally fucked
me a few times, but I never really liked it, especially how the
veins in his neck would pop out and his face turn red. At those
awkward moments the Hero seemed more like the Villain.
I went on to have little affairs. A beautiful little blond guy
and me would get together when his older friend wasnt
around. I stalked an older guy who did windows at Belks
till he threatened to call the police. There was Chip, a greasy
upper classman who I found attractive in some odd way, Hal, a
year younger than me, and Eli my best friends friend. But
the best sex was when I could get back to NYC.
Then another great show came to the barn dinner theater and it
was Another Opening of Another Show: Broadway Tonight! Nick was
in charge, a sexy little bull Italian guy that kept his troupe
together mostly on his sexual allure. He slept with the other
male performer, and all of the girls wanted him badly, except
the slim little lesbian who did a number in a sailor suit. I wanted
him too. One night they went out after the show and I hid under
his bed until they came back. He was furious!! I was shocked that
he didnt want me! He got me out of there and fast before
I upset his applecart. Well he used me like everybody else. I
drove them and a U-haul full of costumes back to NYC and then
onto Toronto Canada for a show up there. I stayed at his apartment
for a week or so, and dont remember us having sex, we might
have, but by then I was not infatuated. Nick went on to organize
the legendary Chippendales, a male strip show, and married Jill
St. John for a brief period. Im sure whatever he did he
got more out of it than the other person(s). I got plenty in return.
I learned the Village in New York during its best years, I learned
how to get around, and I found the baths.
The baths were a dark world unto themselves during those early
years. The Continental was on the upper West Side and my heart
was beating when I finally found the nerve to go down the stairs
and enter. It was a huge place, 4 or 5 floors, a big steam area,
a pool, snack bar and hundreds of little cubicles painted black
and lit by a small bare bulb. We navigated the hallways silently,
hearing the sex sounds behind the doors, looking in on others,
grouping up or pairing off. I loved being there. It was so different
from anything I had ever imagined at home. It never felt dirty
or sleazy; I was bringing to it my best. And usually I felt my
partners were giving their best in return. It was a microcosm
unto itself. Soon I was so comfortable there I stayed as if at
a hotel. It was cheaper than a hotel. You could leave your bag
at the front desk. You checked your money and valuables. For me
it was perfect. Id come home from a few days ready to go
weeks without a thought of sex. I would be saturated with it,
and the furtive encounters with paranoid locals didnt interest
me at all. There was a gay bar in Chapel Hill that wed sometimes
visit. Small, but with dancing. That was the era of dancing holding
each other. Throughout my life so far the bar scene has seemed
to me to go slowly down hill. Its just not that I have aged
and Im not just referring to myself. I can see that guys
just arent enjoying it as much. Back then it was new and
still had the feeling of being taboo, which added to its sexual
allure. No commercialization, just a small group of guys desperate
to be with their own kind for a few hours. We made the most of
it. BetteMiddler was performing at the Continental at that time.
She remembers it as fondly as I do.
My summer romance and these trips to NYC began a creative transformation.
My schoolwork improved and my teachers paid me more attention.
The next summer my favorite teacher who I told I was gay and who
advised me to think twice about coming out, Don Masterton, encouraged
me to take a fashion illustration course at the then number one
fashion school in the country: Parsons. It was in NYC! Mom and
Dad let me.
|