A Gay Weekendby Steve RiderWhen you are gay, you are gay all of the time. But sometimes the gay part can dominate a period of time in your life. What a weekend I've had! Friday night was to be my first stint of volunteer work at the Billy DeFrank Center in San Jose. I'm in training to be a switchboard volunteer. I had not heard from Brian in a few days, and I was hoping to spend some time with him this weekend. I really enjoy spending time with Brian. I should be arrested for the understatement I just made. I tremendously enjoy spending time with Brian. I paid some bills on Friday afternoon, printed out some more of my stories for Brian, a friend of his from LA had sort of appropriated most of the ones I had given him before. I used my new pink paper in my laser printer. But when would I see him ? What chance would I have to give them to him ? I got a psychic hit that he wanted to see me that night, Friday, but how would he know where I was ? Then it hit me, my answering machine !! I put some Erasure on my stereo, walked over to the machine and pressed the button to record an outgoing message. "Hi, this is Steve, thanks for calling. It is Friday December 4th. I will be at the Billy DeFrank Center in San Jose from 6PM until 9PM tonight, (408) 293-4525." I thought it was clever. If Brian heard that message he would get the full implication. He lives in San Jose. I put the stories in an envelope, grabbed my briefcase, and strutted out to my van as if I owned the world. I felt wonderful. I had a very good feeling, high expectations. Somehow I knew I was going to have a good evening. I had my "U.S. gAy" shirt on, and my denim jacket, with the rainbow flag stuck in the buttonholes, and a sticker on the jacket that says "Queers Bash Back A Queer Nation Warning". I take my stickers seriously. I decided to stop at Taco Bell on the way and get something to eat. The kids on the counter saw me walking in and were obviously amused. They've sort of gotten used to me there. A while back one of them was really nervous around me, a really cute Mexican American boy. He has nothing to fear from me. I think he finally realizes that. I just go there to eat. The place was nearly empty. I got my food, poured some iced tea, and looked for a seat where everyone could see me. The lettering on the sticker was rather small, so I took my jacket off, hung it over my chair, and sported the "U.S. gAy" shirt for all to enjoy. There was an elderly couple in one corner of the restaurant. The man obviously did not like my shirt, he was staring in a very unfriendly way. I felt a need to take control of the situation, so I looked him right in the eyes, and smiled widely, while my eyes were saying: "Go ahead, I'm ready". He backed off, he looked away. I caught little snatches of his conversation with his wife. Words like "they" and "public". Too bad honey, get used to it. I ate quickly like I always do. I strode out of the place with my most confident, self assured walk. Another homophobe too scared to say a word, another tiny victory. I like to make them back down, I like the First Amendment to the Constitution. I am free to express myself, and I will do so wherever and whenever I please. Some people don't like that. Too bad. Route 101 was wall to wall cars. I was only two minutes early arriving at the Center, it was locked. I banged on the glass until Bob heard me. I introduced myself, we spoke a few minutes as he set me up with my training materials. I told him about my experiences on a hotline back East at AIDS Project Worcester. I became absorbed in my reading. I met Tom, he works the Friday night shift. If it works out for me to be on the switchboard it seems we will be working together. He seemed like a fine person to me. I looked around at the layout, the phones, then back to my manual. Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone enter the room. "Hi Stranger." It was Brian !! "HI!" I was out of my chair in an instant, the book hit the chair, my arms went around him, I held him to me tightly. Bob and Tom could clearly see that Brian and I knew each other. I was grinning from ear to ear. I gave Brian the envelope with about a pound of my stories. We went out to the game room area and he used the computer I setup recently at the Center to call my BBS and create an account. That felt really good. Brian had never used a BBS before, it was alien to him. I think his motivation for calling was largely to flatter me. He did. Finally I felt that I needed to get back to my duties. Brian said he would call me later from home about us possibly going out after my shift. He had stopped by on his way home from work, he had heard the message on my machine. Brian stayed around a little while socializing in the lobby area while I got back to my training. Before he left he stopped in the office again. As I watched him leave through the big glass windows I was making some sounds, some pleasant noises from down deep inside me. Tom turned to me. "You seem to be interested in him." "YES! YES! YES! How could you tell ?"
Brian called around 8:30, he said he would be by around 9 to meet me. I was grinning from ear to ear. We decided we would hang around downtown. At 9PM a vision appeared in the room, but it was not imaginary, it was a real person, a wonderful guy that I care very much about, a guy who is sweet and gentle, kind and caring, gay and proud. He is a well adjusted man, complete in himself, not dependent on other people to be himself. He is attractive, he is cute, he is sexy. I love just being near him. I cannot recall ever feeling so close to anyone in such a short period of time. I never have clicked with anyone so intensely, so quickly, in my entire life. Bob looked at me. "Well, it's Nine O'Clock, I guess your shift is over." "Cool! I'll see you next week then." Brian and I walked out the front door. The night air was cool, almost cold. The street was lit in a mixture of whites and yellows. There were very few stars in the sky but I was only concerned with what was going on here on the surface of the planet. You'll just never know how happy I felt, you cannot imagine it. Well, if you can, I hope you have that feeling too. My van was parked right out front, it is one of those Chevy Lumina APV vans, it looks like a landing craft from the Star Trek TV series, the Next Generation. I call it the Federation Shuttlecraft. It looks like something out of the future. I'm looking into the future lately, with a lot of hope, with anticipation, I know what I'm hoping for. Maybe you could guess by now. "Let's take the Shuttlecraft, I've got a tape I want you to hear." "OK, do you want to get a bite to eat ? I haven't had dinner yet." "Sure, I did eat but I could go for something light." We cruised around downtown looking for a place to park. I was playing a tape of really gay music, one that a previous lover had made for me, as a going away present. He happens to have the same first name as Brian. I no longer see much in common between them. Just a name I sort of like, and about the same build, and similar shaped faces, but they are totally different people. This Brian is so whole, so mature, we connect on so many levels. Funny though, the very first instant that I saw this Brian I flashed on Brian back East. It was a passing thing, a blast from the past. So much different now. Erasure, Depeche Mode, New Order, very gay music. A year ago, in a different Shuttlecraft, three thousand miles and a lifetime ago, I had held the hand of a guy named Brian. He was possibly cuter, he was very much younger, I loved him, I still do, I always will. He was like heaven to me, Heaven on Earth. It helps to listen to the tapes he made for me, it eases the pain. I wonder why he hates me now. I never wanted to hurt him. He knew that I was leaving. Back to reality, here and now, a man named Brian, not a boy at all, not just beginning to learn, a man of the world. So much different. With Brian it was passion and love, with Brian it is something else. I cannot put words to it. It is less and very much more. We are intimate only through our hearts and minds. His body and mine have not merged, I have no clue if they ever will. It is not an issue.
"Oh L'Amour, what's a boy in love supposed to do ?"
"I can't believe what is happening to me.. "
"The best things in life are worth waiting for." It was not easy to find a place to park. I made a remark to Brian that we would find a place soon, since good luck always follows me around. (Was not Brian right there next to me in the Federation Shuttlecraft?) Just as I said that a car started to pull out of a space right in front of us. As we stepped out I asked Brian if he was uncomfortable being with me in public with my stickers on, all decked out so gay, would he prefer I take them off ?
"It's OK Steve." We decided to skip the food and head for Club St. John. It's a gay place you know, full of fags and dykes, our people. This guy named Chris was there entertaining. He is a very large gay man. He plays the piano and engages the guests in witty repertoire. Sometimes he insults people. Brian and I have seen him there before. In fact Club St. John seems to be becoming our place. We have had brunches there, we go there sometimes in the evening, it is a nice place, and the company tonight was excellent, Brian. I started to head for a table right in front of the piano. We went to a table along the wall instead. I took off my jacket in order to let everyone see The Shirt. I almost sat in a chair across the table from Brian. Then I thought better of it and I sat down next to him on the bench. He moved away from me just a few inches as I sat. The waiter was extremely gay, two Buds please. We started talking about how strange it is with us. We both know that this is something very different. We both know we are already best of friends. Chris started in on us. "Look at these two over here. Trying to hide ? They were going to sit here [the table in front of him] but this one [Brian] said 'oh no'... " We both laughed. It was a good moment for it. The things he does to me, being there, when I'm next to him nothing can hurt me, there is no pain in my heart, he makes me feel very lovable.
"Am I right, am I wrong, or am I just dreaming ?" We talked a lot. At one point I turned my back to him and leaned back and put my head on his shoulder. Every so many minutes I would just grab him and hug him and hold him so very close to me. We talked about his lover. I had met him the weekend before. He is a wonderful guy. I could see the love between them. I could see how important they were to each other. I knew then that I must not push anything with Brian. There will come a time when he will know what is going to happen. I respect him, I respect Greg, I do not want to hurt anyone. Greg lives in Baltimore. It is a complicated situation. I know that I want Brian to be happy.
" Hold on.
" I don't understand what destiny's planned He told me how it seems to him that people who come out later in life tend to be more radical, more militant. How if a person comes out really early in life they sometimes seem more indifferent or relaxed about being gay in the world. He was asking if I thought that might explain part of my militance. I agreed. A few more beers. Another half dozen hugs. I touched his leg, just above his ankle, with my fingertips. I showed him the needle mark in my left arm. In two more weeks I'll know if I was safe 6 weeks before that morning. You can never know you are safe right now, not if you're active. It was getting late. Brian had not eaten. We decided to call it a night. I drove him back to his car at the Billy DeFrank Center. One last hug, one more kiss. I watched while he started his car. I went home and turned on my IBM. I tried to write but it wasn't there. I called a few BBSes, on one of them I chatted with a few friends. I was very excited to tell them about my evening. Finally I wound down enough to go to sleep. Tommorrow, Saturday, was to be a busy day. As I took off my "U. S. gAy" shirt I thought about what Brian had said "... more than a friend." I curled up under the covers with a smile on my face.
" I'm gonna live my time for the rest of my life. Saturday morning I made a pot of my homo-erotic coffee from the Castro. A secret blend I will not divulge to anyone. I checked my mail on a few BBSes then I called my friend Donald.
"Hi honey, I'm home."
"Oh Steve, you always have a new boyfriend. Is he cute ?" We stopped somewhere in Walnut Creek and found a coffee house. There was some kind of a Jesus Saves video playing on a bunch of monitors. I tried really hard to get the guy to notice my shirt. I wanted to test his faith. He was oblivious though. The coffee was good, but not homo-erotic. Donald bought me a muffin. He thinks I do not eat enough, or well enough. Oh well. We got to Vacaville about ten minutes before 12. There were lots of cops there. They were setting up some barricades. I made a point of parking legally, we had to walk back a few blocks. Some guy was working on his pickup truck in front of his house. He called us over to ask what was going on. I had a bullhorn in my hand, the one we used at the parade in June, the day of The Closet Door. This old guy was really cool. We started telling him how the State of California Department of Corrections was abusing prisoners with AIDS. We told him that we thought all people with AIDS deserved decent medical care. He agreed and said all people deserved decent medical care. We agreed with him. Pretty soon it was like we were having this agreeing contest. Here we were, outside agitators, fags no less, coming into his neighborhood for a demonstration, and he was treating us like his next door neighbors. This man understood what America is all about. We got down to where all the people were gathered. There were guys with purple hair, guys with rings in their noses, girls that looked like guys - why do I find them attractive ? It was like a trip back into the sixties for me. Radical people, vocal people, an ACT UP! demonstration. The cops had cameras. I figured they were so proud of us for exercising our first amendment rights that they wanted to make a movie about it. Maybe not, I wasn't exactly sure about that. Donald and I were strangers to everyone there. We milled around as everyone waited for the organizers of the march to arrive. Word had it that they had experienced car trouble on the highway and they were going to be delayed. We kept saying hello to people and engaging them in conversation. There were people there from as far away as New York City and Seattle. I had brought some diskettes with my stories as ASCII text files. I kept trying to find people who owned computers to give them to. One guy had a BBS Sysop as a lover, he took one and we chatted a very long time. He has been HIV positive for at least eleven years. His T-Cell count is over 1100. The guy was immensely cool. The demonstration started. We walked around in a large circle in front of the gates. We chanted together. It was very miltant but nothing like violent at all. There was no chance of anything getting ugly. The cops had their cameras rolling. I buttoned my jacket so they could get a nice clear shot of my stickers. I smiled. As far as I am concerned every human being who has AIDS is an innocent victim. Some are also suffering from addictions that seem to harm them, some have just let their passion overwhelm them, some never knew the dangers they faced. I was wishing Brian could have joined us. He cares about people too. We stopped the circle of chanting. We all laid down on the pavement, a die-in. More chants. I felt very clearly how foreign some peoples lives are to my own, lives full of hatred for whole groups of people. These people in the prison with AIDS, they were just a bunch of fags and junkies anyway, why not just let them die. We had to bring attention to the facts. There are enough good and caring people in the world, like that man working on his pickup two blocks away. If they knew what was going on behind these walls, pressure might be brought to bear. The die-in ended, now there were speakers. Desperation inside this place, people begging for treatment. Medical staff with no memory of their oaths at all. There were a lot of stories told, but the worst one, the one that hit me the hardest was about a prisoner with kidney problems. He needed dialysis, his kidneys would not work. For some reason the prison had denied him dialysis. In the course of one week he had gained almost fifty pounds. He was in constant pain. They would not even give him painkillers. They gave him "water pills". His friends kept begging the clinic to help him. Finally after his last night of suffering he could not even sit up. He died in the clinic, bloated out of shape. He was hated to death. People wonder why I'm so militant about gay rights. I wonder why they're not. I couldn't take it anymore, I asked Donald if we could leave. I carried the bullhorn in my right hand as we walked back to the Shuttlecraft. The old man waved to us and wished us well.
"Oooooh -e -ooooh -e -ooooh
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