Wednesday, 13 July 2011
Ramblings: Welcome to the Dolls’ House
I suppose I always knew I was a bit different from most of the other boys at school. I was the only boy who had a dolls' house. I was the only one who when asked what he wanted to be when he grew up answered "Wonder Woman" and I think I was the only boy in Primary School who had a desperate urge to sit on the afro clad guitar playing teacher's lap. He had lovely denim flares.
When I started at senior school it became more evident. The proximity of older children bought it home that I was indeed very different. They soon managed to point out that I was indeed a "poof" and I was glad to have a name for it. Poof was only one of the many names I soon learnt applied to me. Luckily for me there were 4 of us and I had 3 other gay companions in the class to keep me company. There's safety in numbers when there's missiles. I proved quite popular among some of the girls and had a coterie of female friends who would act as body guards.
Once the hormones kicked in I realised I was indeed gay and fancied men with a mad yearning. I really wanted a boyfriend but the idea seemed remote. Although there were 3 other gay lads in my class I didn't fancy them at all. Damn those minority statistics!
I did decide to investigate gay "porn". I took a deep breath and thanks to me being a tall 15 year old, managed to purchase a gay magazine from a newsagent in the market hall, called "Him!". It being the 1980s, it was barely porn. You'd probably get saucier pictures in Woman's Weekly these days. It featured lots of men standing naked with their flaccid penises on show. Very daring. I rememebr feeling mortified buying it and dying inside a little when the imposing woman in the shop sucked her teeth in disapproval and looked me up and down.
As for the second part of the question (have you ever slept with a girl?), I'll tell you a little story. Aged 28 and in a bit of turmoil over whether to take the bold step of leaving my partner of 12 years, I stupidly suspended my cynicism and went to see a fortune teller. She was grim, totally hapless. Towards the end of a very embarrassing hour as she stumbled over a lot of "cold readings" and got everything wrong, she made the final mistake.
"I know you're gay, love but have you ever slept with a girl? I'm sorry for asking but there's a dead baby hovering over your shoulder and I think it might be yours."
"It's not mine." I replied. "Tell it to piss off."
She gave up on me at that point and I left.