I don’t know how many of my friends are gay

Crossposted at Rainbow Mittens.

I don’t know how many of my friends are gay.  I have a lot of them.

Me?  Not so much.  No fantasies or childhood experimentation, except the hetero kind.

In fact sex is kind of icky, if only because it fools with your emotions.  Makes you irrational.

I hate that.

I’m constantly surprised by the sexual lives of my friends, many seem to choose the most inappropriate people who bring out their worst characteristics.

My life is certainly like that.  My fiance gave me unconditional love, but I am Captain of the Enterprise and she was not it.

So maybe it wasn’t that unconditional after all.

But that’s not the story I want to tell.  

My club is tough.  The most political “non-political” kind you could want, all up close and personal so you can feel the blood spurt when you knife someone in the back.

I met my buddy Walt when I was already making my bones.  At the time I was Consigliere to my brewing buddy who made me.  We were going for Capo di Tutti and making friends and Stella was a powerful friend.  She was a shooting star with ambition and accomplishments to match.  Walt was her Consigliere.

Stella had a dachshund and raised Siamese cats.  She’d already buried 3 husbands (metaphorically speaking) and although she lived in a trailer was pulling down big bucks as a trainer and supervisor.

She had another friend named Joan, a former Capo with beaucoup connections up and down the local.  They umm… made an overture to my buddy and I, Stella to my buddy and Joan to me.

Joan and I lasted much longer until she decided I wasn’t the kind of stability she was looking for, but no hard feelings eh?

Flash forward to a memorable Halloween Party where I was stalked by a psycho I foolishly befriended.  When I say psycho I mean institutionalized for exactly the same kind of behavior she exhibited that night which was to think 1 or 2 dances meant true love.

After a party destroying shouting match which ended up with threats to call the police, Stella (who was also in attendance along with Walt) confessed she’d always fancied me but had held off because of my relationship with Joan.  Me?  I have no scruples about friend’s exes.

Thus began a torrid 3 month affair.

Through it all was Walt, a nice guy but seething in the background because Stella was paying attention to me.  We got along fine and I never imagined it was him who convinced Stella I was “too serious” and got her to dump me.

I don’t even hold it against him.  As you know I am not serious at all.

But Stella and Walt never hooked up and eventually he started with a girl named Melissa, Capo of another local (Stella went on to be Capo di Tutti and marry a biker.  Probably has a tattoo by now too).  My star fell out of favor but was never totally eclipsed and while Walt and I moved on parallel tracks his was on the inside and mine was headed to the scrap yard.

But Walt and I had bonded as dumpster buddys and I helped him get Capo di Tutti with no expectations.  When the time came for my run I was surprised and gratified to have his support; but you know, I would have beaten his surrogate candidate’s ass anyway if he hadn’t gotten on board.

Victory hurray!

During his term as Capo di Tutti his relationship with Melissa had deteriorated, but those kinds of things often do.  Did I mention the Enterprise?  Rumours surfaced that Walt was teh gay, but since the same kind of thing had been floated to damage me and my brewing buddy while he was still ambitious I ignored them and expressed my skepticism.

Surprise, surprise, surprise.

Walt eventually hooked up with Ken and they have a great relationship as far as I can tell.  Walt went on to serve 2 more terms as Capo di Tutti and during the dances at the quarterly meetings I’ll chat with Ken while Walt works the room and then Walt while Ken dances.

Ken’s a hell of a dancer, the gals love him.