Boston Beauty
I would get to Boston once in a while on a business trip. I sometimes managed to find time to visit a gay bar. One that I remember was very nice; kind of high class, "piss-elegant" in gay-speak. It was in walking distance of the hotel I was staying at. It was set up kind of like a gentlemen's club with a comfortable bar area and several sitting areas on two levels.
After a few drinks I became much more relaxed and began to smile a shitfaced grin at the guys around me. One of them was a young black man. College age or a bit older, he was tall and had a nice face and very friendly manner. Well, maybe he had had several drinks also. We fell into conversation and hit it off very well. Pretty soon we were touching lightly and starting a bit of a romance. When the young man asked me where I was staying, I was vague in reply, not wanting to think about sex this early in the evening, if at all. We continued to banter as we drank together, but the young african-american guy did not hold his liquor very well. Soon, he was laughing uproariously at the slightest provocation, and began to get sloppy in his movements and speech.
When a young preppy type guy sat near us, my new friend, greeted him warmly. The new arrival was quite cool, and didn't warm up at all, when my buddy, pointing at me, said: "Ain't he beautiful?" It would be more than overly generous to call me beautiful that night, or any other night. I knew that, but was charmed anyway by the gesture. The new preppy prick however was having none of this misrepresentation. "Huh??!!," he responded in an incredulous tone, as though he had never heard anything so ridiculous in his life. Well, I may not have been beautiful but the nasty fuck didn't have to be so emphatic about it. My friend tried to insist, wondering why the newcomer could not see my obvious charms, but I turned away in embarrassment. When my black friend went to the john, I made my escape from both of them, carrying my drink to another part of the bar.
There, I met a young fair-haired young man of about college age. Also friendly and nice. He was local and I asked him about the gay goings-on in Boston. He was happy to fill me in, telling me about the bar scene and other things of interest. He told me of a bathhouse that I might consider visiting sometime, but cautioned me away from a second one that was listed in a gay guide, declaring it "a toilet." It was getting late and I decided I'd better get back to my hotel room if I was going to be in any shape for work in the morning. My new friend and I made a date for the following night. We were to meet at the same bar at a certain time. Alas. I never showed.
Several months later, in talking with a Boston business associate who was gay and knew I was also gay, I shared the story. Surprisingly, he knew the bar, and after I described my date in detail including his first name, he knew the guy! He subsequently spoke to him about me, and explained why I hadn't been able to keep the date. The young blond friend said that he had wondered what had happened to me. I felt better having apologized for standing him up. I don't remember ever having deliberately stood up anybody else. I guess it is just not in my nature. I figure that what goes around comes around, and so maybe someday I'll at least get some points for good manners.