So a few days ago, Clayton and I broke up. Or maybe we were never together. Who knows and who cares. Any of you surprised to hear that I had a boyfriend? Some of you should be, I didn’t make it public knowledge because I am tired of the Oklahoma City queer community being involved in my personal life. This time, I took it one step further and not only told virtually no one, I also went off to a far away city and did my looking.
So, here is how this whole thing really got started. One fine day, I found myself up in Tulsa, Oklahoma. I was there with some friends, Gary and Chris, and I brought a friend named Yue from OU Norman up there too. This group first met at Tulsa Pride 2009, after we all endured an insane after party with Bobby Crowfeather and some other demented souls, we were pretty much like plane crash survivors. A bond had formed between us, we now have reunions and such. Somehow, this crew and I wound up at a little dive bar in Tulsa known as The End Up. It was my first time there, but it quickly became my favorite haunt in Tulsa, as it features Go Go Boys every night at 10 PM and I like dicky dancers.
I was at End Up when this little blond bombshell took the pole, his name turned out to be Clayton Horner. He wasn’t the cutest and I have seen and had better. But once he came to my table, I was intoxicated with love (and booze) and we ended up exchanging numbers. My friends were busy with objects of their desire, I took on Clay for several lap dances. He was so drunk he nearly fell asleep standing up against me, and I took the opportunity to give him a very thorough back massage. Not a grab ass massage that you might give your average pole boy, this was the kind you might give a lover. Slow. Steady. Through. Loving. He responded – actually, he purred – and he and I talked. I basically told him I liked him and for the first time in a long time.
I felt a connection, one far deeper than the rentboy/client relationship I am used to.I have often preferred that detachment, that ability to sacrifice a small amount of money (which I can always make more of when I need to) to satisfy all my needs while taking no risks of emotional injury. That ability to have my fun and then put him – it, actually – out on the front door and not care what happens to him – I mean it – once he left my front door step. But throughout several times in my life, I have had a desire to have something more. To have a real relationship instead of a business transaction based on love instead of money, where the currency was mutual respect and compassion instead of PayPal and Visa.
We exchanged numbers. The next day, I thought about it. Was I wrong, had I just been drunk and imagined a connection that was not there? No, this transcended the booze, cut it like a knife. So I called him and he answered. We chatted a little bit, about how drunk he was and how he broke the shadow box at the end of the night when he fell into it. He then told me a little bit about his life, how he normally doesn’t get that plastered and told me when he’d be dancing again. We talked for like a half an hour, he said he remembered me from the night before and that he liked me as well and thought I was sweet. I told him to take care of himself, and he invited me to call again in a couple of days. I promised I would.
So like a week later, I called and I left a message which was not returned. There was something there, so I kept trying once or twice a month. Not enough to be pushy, just enough to say I am still interested. Its not stalking unless the other person indicates that the contact is unwanted, its just persistence and dedication. For all I knew, he was just busy or he never checked his voice mail. This went on for several months. Finally, I called him a last time and pretty much said I was giving up. It wasn’t returned. In December or so, I looked up Clay on Facebook and added him. Sent a message that wasn’t returned. Didn’t call for like a month, then one day just decided to call and… Clay answered.
He said he remembered me still and wanted to talk to me. I apologized if I had been creepy by being so persistent, he said not to worry he had just been busy with life. This started a string of conversations that turned into daily phone calls and Facebook messages. We talked about family, ex-lovers, about goals, plans, dreams and hopes for the future on both sides and so on. Some of the conversations lasted hours, others only a few minutes.
I am striking out the first half of this message because it contains alot of family and personal stuff and even though no consideration was shown for me or my feelings in this whole thing, I am not quite vindictive enough with regard to this little shit to go on an all out crusade and lay bare all his dirty laundry. This Facebook message is being reproduced unedited, with all misspellings and such intact, I have just cut the top half of the message off:
January 22, 2010 at 3:33am
we could definately get a chance to talk more, i figurei need to move one from my old life that this is all i know and everyone says running away doesnt solve anything well its not running when you are leaving to find yourself and happiness so hopefully this works out, im so excited thinking about a new life new start new me, i have been through enough to even keep going through this crap, ands it sucks because all most all of it is inflicted upon me like a plague lol sorry im babbling now lol, but feel free to ask absolutely anything i’ll be honest, trust me i am so tired of games ppl play not saying i never did that would be a lie but im not that same person by a long shot and luckly i have my family to thank, my brothers have always been my protecters and they are awsome to be around my parents well are parents but make great friends now im older and learned even though i did learn bad things too early, bad things happen to good people, good people should watch out for each other, but this laptop is about to die lol i cant find charger im at my lesbiaN friends house keepin her company until morning, but i want to talk more and again im sorry it took a bit lol…. and i remember that night talking to you not everything but i do remember and you were a lot of fun and great and interesting to talk to not like those other people who ugh lol, but i will talk to you again and i am interested in talking to you or seeing whatever but i just cant get hurt.
Shortly after this message, we had the more serious relationship talks which I file under the “please don’t hurt me” category. Where I promised not to be a douche and he promised the same, etc. Most of all, we promised not to hurt each other, if we got together. And we chatted daily for alot longer. At one point, his parents were going to stop paying his cell bill because he was on a family plan with them and went over his minutes, so I bought him a prepaid T-mobile phone and mailed it to him because he had no money for one. His phone was the only way he could stay in touch with me and the rest of the world. At the time, I was in a huge financial pinch. He doesn’t know this, but something of mine went into the pawn shop so that phone could hit the mailbox. Clay moved out of his place with Josh (his ex) after he lost a job at Sonic as a result of some drama with that living relationship. Yep, he cried on my shoulder for that, too. Everytime Clayton Horner had a crisis, I was there for him the best I could be being 100 miles away. At one point, I asked Clay if he wanted to declare a relationship status on Facebook, he said we’d talk about it when I got to Tulsa.
What is particularly damning about this one is the fact that I actually helped him find his new boyfriend. No joke! This all began about two weeks ago or so, when I was in Tulsa for a mini-vacation from the daily bump n grind, and I went up to Owasso and got him from his parents place and brought him back to my hotel room and got ready. It was all kinda last minute the way it came together. I asked again about the relationship thing, and he dodged the question skillfully. This should have been my first clue that he was backing away, but like an idiot I had the blinders on big time.
So off we went to The Bamboo Lounge. Clay got shitfaced on my dime, it was our first true date. I got pretty wasted and I even sang Karaoke – I sang “Escape” (The Pina Colada Song) by Rupert Holmes. I butchered the lyrics therein, adding that it could be a boy to blame instead of a woman to blame. Little did I know but I was predicting the future, as it was unfolding between my very eyes. Well anyway, at some point this guy named Adrian sat down at our table and began hitting on Clay, who was at this point way too drunk to consent to anything, or for that matter, barely even stand up. I finally decided to pull Clay out of there and call it a night. Before I left, Adrian gave me his number and Clay insisted that I make sure that Adrian had Clay’s number, which I dutifully did, even got my own phone out to check it and make sure it was correct. So as soon as we got outside the bar, he kinda fell into my hands and started kissing me and thanking me for nothing and everything. He was obviously very drunk and I reminded myself that now would not be an appropriate time to do anything in the love making department, he was clearly vulnerable and needed to go home.
On the way back to his parents house, Clay passed out in the back seat of my car hard core. I was shouting at him and he wouldn’t respond at all. I text messaged Adrian and told him I thought it was shitty that he was hitting on my boyfriend when he clearly was drunk and not in a position to consent. He called and apologized up and down, saying he had no idea that Clay had a boyfriend, and he felt really bad like he disrespected me and all this happy horse shit. I thought we had an understanding and despite the fact that I was good and pissed at him, I decided to play it cool and realize that sometimes innocent misunderstandings happen and the guy was being decent about it. I was now at Clay’s parents place, and I had to wake him up so he could get back inside his house. I shouted at him and he wouldn’t respond, so I parked the car, shut off the lights and killed the engine and put my seat back (Clay was in the back seat) and shook him until he woke up. He started kissing me again and I kissed him back, then told him he better get inside after making sure he didn’t want me to walk him up to the door.
So I left, the next day was St. Patrick’s Day, and Clay was to dance at End Up. I was planning to go with Gary and Chris since Adrian was now all set, I decided to call and invite him. Little did I know, Clay had already invited him. Adrian texted Clay the next morning and said “Sorry, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend” and Clay supposedly responded back “Oh no” and then proceeded to tell Adrian how he had no feelings for me. The implication is obvious, Clay was playing me for everything I was worth. I wouldn’t find this out until after days of bothering Adrian, tonight he told me everything. It started by text, but later it wound up in a phone call and I could tell this little fucking prick was smiling while he was telling me this.
So anyway, back to End Up on St. Patty’s Day, Clay got very drunk again on my dime. Clay was on the schedule to dance three sets and after the first set, he announced that he didn’t want to dance anymore and couldn’t remember when his next set was. Then Adrian announced that after the next set, Clay was gonna pack his shit and leave.I tied to talk Clay out of it, because I was convinced that Clay was again too drunk to consent and everything I knew about Adrien told me big trouble was ahead. Adrian said he had just met Clay the last time he and I were together, Clay told me he knew Adrian for a long time. So I went and found Blake, the owner of End Up, and asked him about Adrian and Clay. Blake said that Clay said Adrian was his boyfriend. Fine, it was clear. Clay had made his choice. I have always respected people’s choices and I don’t interfere with them.
Still, the problem was Clay was drunk and in no position to consent. What kind of person who I be if I saw him getting picked up in a bar and did nothing to stop it? Yet, it was clear Clay had made his choice. So when Clay showed up out of the dressing room dressed (and after Blake told him he was giving up his job at End Up if he walked off stage without completing the schedule, something he has done before), it took me a few moments to decide what to do. I finally decided I had to let him go. He was sober when he told Blake what he did, which means he made this decision a while ago. I walked him out to Adrian’s car, told Adrian in no uncertain terms that this had better not end badly, told Clayton that he made his own choices and I respected them and reminded him that he was very drunk. Clay insisted he wanted to go. So in he got and I shut the door. As Adrian pulled out, I whipped out my iPhone and took a picture of his license plate as he left, just in case. I sent a text message to Adrian and told him what I did and told him that I would hunt him down if he hurt that kid. I sent another message to Clay and told him to call me the next morning to let me know he was OK.
I felt bad. Bad for my loss, and I felt like I should have stopped him from leaving for his own safety. But the Libertarian in me got the best of me and reminded me of my belief in personal responsibility and not protecting others from themselves. Imagine how much worse I felt when Clay did not answer my calls. I was frantic, worried that the worst had happened and above all, I could have prevented it and didn’t. He finally text messaged me a single line: “I’m fine, very angry with u”. That was the last I heard from him, he blocked and deleted me on Facebook a couple of days later and for several days I sat in disbelief. I went back to the clubs, but only after putting him out of my mind completely. Finally tonight, I decided to turn the heat up on Adrian and thats when I got the finally bits of the truth.
This Friday, my rage finally exploded and after getting very, very drunk at End Up, a fight ensued and I somehow wound up decking Mike who has been a good friend. How my anger wound up aimed at him I have no idea, it made sense in my drunken mind at the time I am sure, but it resulted in me getting ejected from End Up for starting the fight and then the Tulsa PD came. What happened after the Tulsa PD came, lets just say that will be another story for another day, pending an investigation already launched by the Tulsa Police Department Internal Affairs Bureau. None the less, I am going to work to repair my friendship with Mike.
So basically, the above is the story of how Clayton Horner, a 23 year old pole stripper, hustled me the best anyone ever has managed to. Never before have I swallowed so much bullshit in such a short amount of time. But I’m not missing a beat. I was back at the clubs a few days later, with a new attitude and new outlook on life. Its ironic that I sit here right now as I type this watching Logo show Queer as Folk episodes back to back. Its taken several hours to type and edit this. For me, writing is a purging process. It relieves pain. Some people cut themselves, others take drugs, I write and drink – and sometimes take drugs, too. But tonight, I wrote and this is my big fuck you to the world and especislally to Clayton Horner.
I think I have said that Brian Kinney is my idol character in the QAF series, someone who is very much a sociopath, incapable of loving anyone who has lots of mindless sex and worries only about how he feels, what his needs are and says to hell with everyone else, their feelings, wants, desires and needs. Only he hawt enough that he doesn’t have to pay for it. I am going to truly embrace the attributes of Brian’s character in myself. I used to hold out hope that there is a place for true love in my life. But I see now that there is not. Only insane people make the same mistakes over and over without learning from them. The definition of insanity is repeating the same set of steps expecting a different outcome. Not only am I not insane, I am also intelligent enough to learn from my mistakes. And attempting to love people around me is, was, always has been and always will be a fucking mistake.
To sum it up shortly, my new approach goes something like this: fuck you all. Its all about me from here on out.
So, ya’all, here is the new deal:
Do you need money? Got an hour or two of spare time? I’ll buy your time, if you are hot. Don’t tell me about your life because with few exceptions, I don’t care. You are not a person to me, but a means to satisfy and end. Just as a hire an account to file my taxes, I hire you to service my cock with your mouth and with your asshole. My accountant is my tax service provider, you are my sex service provider. I don’t ask my accountant about his life or his kids, because he is there to file my taxes, not find emotional support. And you are there to provide me with sex, I pay you a fee for that. Take your fee and go. I will treat you with basic professional respect, which means I wont hurt you physically, I wont be emotionally abusive for the sake of doing so (but if I feel like saying something, I will let it be said), I wont take advantage of you and I wont make you do anything you don’t consent to. Beyond that, your feelings are not my concern. Interested? E-mail me. My address is: firstname.lastname@example.org.
This may all seem quite cold and heartless on my part, but you know what, I really don’t care. I am done trying to love a world that has no love for me. I am done trying to believe redeeming things about people who have nothing redeeming about them. I am done caring for people who simply mistake my selfless caring for a ticket to a free ride. People have not earned the respect or the credit that I give them. But I will never know this pain again. You, Clayton Horner, have ensured that I will never love anyone again. You sir, have finally turned me into the sociopath that many people think I am.