The traffic in DC is snarled, 8 billion police on the street, roadblocks abound with the G20 meetings happening and I'm locked in the car with Andrew, my Stanford friend, we're making our way to dinner with Peter and SSK (super sexy kitten). Andrew shyly says, "Can I ask you a gay question?". I'm busy honking the horn at the world and screaming obscenities at neighboring cars (I'm prone to road rage, where is my 9mm). What what what?
I've found that now that I have the "gay" merit badge, people like to start talking to me about sex. Woman telling how big their husband's cock is (or not), details of their sexual life and asking me all sorts of intimate questions. Guys shyly ask stuff too. One of my straight friends is telling me that he's being seeing prostitutes (after 14 years of marriage). What am I? Ann Landers?
The other night, Tiger Cub and I out with his best girlfriend and her boyfriend. At his house, I'm checking out his darkened office. "This is a good porn viewing spot!", I venture. She quickly protests that her boyfriend is getting plenty of action and NO he doesn't need porn. Tiger Cub and I quickly jump on this topic, her boyfriend emerges and we hound him to answer. "OK maybe a 2 or 3 times a week", he glumly looks at the floor and disappears into the kitchen. "WHAT!!! You're looking at porn!", she exclaims. Tiger Cub and I are rolling on the floor laughing. At least he was honest. But most of us aren't.
TC and I talking this morning about gay and straight couples. In evidently one partner ain't so happy with the sex. But they don't talk about it. The reason we gathered, if you bring up the topic and it isn't dealt with properly — well it likely just got worse. So you don't and like some silent killer, it lurks in the shadows.
If you don't think you're do'ing it enough — well you probably aren't.
Prof. Tim is alone in Chicago this weekend and advising that the Latino community is missing me. Ah my brown boys are soo sweet.