It wasn’t xxx, or porn but an old trick put on a public show

Whenever I have seen guys in a pro context, the meetings and departures are tricky. They don’t want to be seen with me, don’t want exposure. They want to keep their dalliances secret. In 20 years  of  “dating”  no one has ever made a public scene. They enter and exit on tiptoes, speak in whispers. No one has ever publicly linked himself to me in close physical proximity to his work. The code of secret silence was broken yesterday, when a trick from years ago came up to me as I sat with others in a public mall. I like to go downtown when I am lonely. No homeless person objects when I sit with them, as I did yesterday. The red light and homeless districts are adjacent to the business district. I often have a legit reason to enter the area, but I linger bc I want to do so. There I was when an irate trick decided I had no right to deny him explanations for the opinions I have voiced in this blog. He had been unable to force me to answer his questions about why I wrote some posts last year that detailed his use of several screen names, one that hated me in my provider role, the other persona liked me as a provider and have me two thumbs up. Like a one man Siskel and Ebert. Evidently, the disgruntled internet troll had forgotten his claim that he had never posted about me–ever. He demanded to know why I wrote about someone who sounded like him when in truth, he had never typed a negative word about me. fuHe had fully adopted the hateful persona he called AstroYouth as he loudly speculated for all passers-by about the mental illnesses I must struggle with, to think him a troll. The beauty of having my own site is I’m not accountable to anyone. He couldnt control me–he was powerless over my deeds and thoughts, and he couldn’t even punish me for my impertinence bc I didn’t need anything from him in the form of payment. He was left with attempted public condemnation. I say, attempted, bc the only way to publicly shame people us to expose them to the disapproval of people who matter to them and who they matter to. I don’t matter. The observers were mildly interested, but their interest was more in the subject of the rant, than it’s object (me). What’s more, by falling back on age old prejudicial words used about mental illness, he confirmed that he was everything he denied–my enemy. But why fling off the sheltering cloak of anonymity and reveal his hobby to important people he might not have seen. It’s not who you see that’s important, it is who sees you. Maybe he had been fired and had given up on the life he had lived. I’ll tell you why I think so.

I made a valuable, jarring observation: he was missing a lot of teeth.

The last time I had seen this malcontent in a professional way, I had noticed his dental situation. How could I miss it? I had assumed he adroitly removed his dentures when I looked away. In fact, when I read the subsequent negative review about my provider skills and looks, I was surprised that he was comfortable enough to take out his teeth, and after that intimacy, bad-mouthed me. He was safe with me but he didn’t return the favor. I was more wrong than I knew, for he had no dentures, so he never took out his teeth with me. He was walking around like that. Possession of dentures is a visible Hawaii status symbol, in my book. Often locals are completely toothless by age 30. A brownskinned toothless native is common. You never see toothless middle class whites, unless they are just re-entering the middle class after a time on drugs. I am drawing the conclusion that when a professional white man shows up to work without dentures, his status is going, going, gone. Any marked departure from accepted dental appearance and/or hygiene is probably an indication of personal/professional trouble. Evidently, he was beyond caring about his reputation.  Granted, his reputation wasn’t going to take much of a hit among my fellow outcasts, but normies do walk by in that part of town, always as if they do not see us. What if a normie followed the trick’s lead and broke protocol? A normie could have listened to a mild disturbance among the untouchables. He didn’t  fear exposure?  I had never seen a man take a risk that was not going to lead directly to sex (like pulling over to allow me into his vehicle). I listened as he loudly berated me by quoting my blogs and explaining why I was wrong and crazy, to boot, to my loosely congregated group waiting for the bus. No sex  on the horizon after this display. Did his rage and desire to wound me stemmed from his dental issues? Misery loves company? Who cares about decorum when your teeth are gone? Surely he was not upset about anything I said bc who wants to hear from a whore? We may never know why he threw the standard  caution of a trick to the wind, opened his toothless mouth and bayed at the 🌕 moon.

 

P.S. if  only obsessions were mutual. One person always cares more than the other person in a dyad, like my late, beloved friend who was mostly gay (except for me.) I loved him so much and that love was pretty much unreciprocated. Now, look at this former trick of mine. I don’t know his name nor do I care. Yet he had committed my words to memory while I was engaged in hard core grieving for a man who didn’t love me. How unbalanced. I wish someone who liked me would be drawn to me with such intensity! I hope this suffering attracts readers so it all won’t be for naught!

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