Date: Sat, 01 Nov 2008 15:23:50 +0000
From: hankster1430@bellsouth.net
Subject: My Life as I Live It  Short Story

Hi!  My name is Jimmy Burke.  I met my best friend forever on the first day
of kindergarten and we never stopped being bosom buddies until we were too
old to remember when we met.  The only minor glitch to our friendship is
that Doug confided in me, when we were fifteen, that he was gay.  He prayed
it wouldn't come between us, and that we would continue to be best friends.

I was a bit stunned and very taken aback, but I loved Doug in the way any
straight man loves another.  My love for him came from the heart and not
from the penis.  Not once had Doug ever violated our friendship by making a
move on me.  So I put on my best macho act and said, "Dougie boy, I don't
care whose cock you put in your mouth or who takes yours.  As long as it
isn't my mouth or my ass, we will always be best friends forever."  Then as
if to cement my blood brother pronouncement, I embraced him and gave him a
very manly hug.

As we grew to maturity, we confided our sexual conquests to each other.  I
had no trouble relating every last disgusting detail to him and he
delighted in doing the same.  I secretly believed that he was trying to get
me hot and maybe seduce me.  I gave up that silly notion when I realized he
was not any more aroused by my tales than I was by his.  In fact, I felt
that some of the things he did with other men were disgusting.  Now, I
swear, even though I wasn't aroused by his descriptive narratives, I can
tell you I was often jealous.  Every once in awhile I would wish some broad
would do to me what some guys were doing to Doug.  In my mind if I
substituted a female for one of Doug's fuck buddies, then I did become
aroused.  I wondered if the same was true for Doug.

We went to Boston University together and shared a room off campus in a
boarding house.  I know you will find this hard to believe, but it's
absolutely true.  I often entertained women all night with Doug in the bed
right next to me, and he often entertained men all night.  It didn't seem
to bother either of us or the persons we bedded.  Not once did either one
of us tell the other to tone it down.  In fact, one time Doug brought home
a guy who was bi, and I happened to bring home a woman that night.
Sometime in the middle of the night Doug's date switched teams, and Doug
and I both enjoyed watching his bubble butt, as he bobbed up and down while
he was fucking my date.

It won't boggle your imagination to know that I am a jock, and I was into
sports all through school.  Doug, on the other hand, was on the math team
and the debating team in spite of the fact that he was built like a
football player.  That might have pushed us apart a bit, but what not only
saved the friendship, but indeed strengthened it, was our mutual love of
singing.

In grade school, we were in the glee club together; two cute boy sopranos.
As we grew older, we sang in our church choir and in our high school choir.
At the University we also joined a choral group; now as two handsome
baritones.

After college and law school, we both settled in Boston where Doug joined a
prestigious law firm, and I joined an equally prestigious architectural
firm.  We discussed moving in together, but ended up taking separate
apartments in adjoining duplexes in Beacon Hill.  We finally realized that
not every fuck buddy we brought home would be as liberal in attitude as we
were.

Over the next couple of years, we continued to sing together in our church
choir.  Singing always seemed to bond us together.  One night, returning
from the gym where we had been working out, Doug said, "Jimmy, I have some
spectacular news.  I tried out for The Gay Men's Chorus of Boston, and I
have been accepted."

"That's fantastic," I lied.  "Tell me about it."

"Well, we rehearse twice a week and as often as necessary before a
performance.  Maybe we won't be able to get together as often as we do now.
That's the one thing I feel bad about.  Anyway, they have a performance
coming up on Saturday evening at Symphony Hall, and I got us two tickets so
you can see what I am in for."

I was a little stunned.  I never went to gay bars with Doug and he never
went to straight bars with me.  Other than that, we spent all our leisure
time together.  We ate dinner out a lot, rehearsed for the church choir at
least one night a week, played squash at least one night a week, went to
the gym to work out together as often as possible, and probably spent more
time as a twosome than most married couples.


"Well, I'm not going to lie," I said.  "I'm going to miss giving up so much
of our time together, but we'll work it out.  Our friendship is too strong
to be broken by this.  Besides, I know this will make you happy, and that
makes me happy.  Just promise me one thing.  If you fall in love with a
tenor, I get to pass judgment on his merits."

"That's a deal, but you've got to give me the same privilege when you fall
in love.  You can't ask a girl to marry you without my say so."

That got us both laughing and we parted with a manly hug.

I must tell you that I wasn't too comfortable about going to the concert on
Saturday evening.  I was sure that the audience would be all gay, and if I
ran into someone I knew I wouldn't want them to think I might be gay.
Still, I could not say no to Doug.  It turned out that I didn't run into
anyone I knew, straight or gay, and although the audience was mostly gay,
there were plenty of straight couples in the audience.  I figured they were
family members.

On the other hand, Doug seemed to know half the people in the hall.  Every
other hunk in the audience came over to say hello to him.  They eyed me up
and down as he introduced me.  I'm sure they thought I was his date, and
they were either sizing me up as a good prospect for Doug, or they were
very, very jealous.  I was impressed by how many people he knew.  I didn't
know a quarter as many straight people.  No wonder he was such a successful
lawyer.

The Chorus was phenomenal.  They were totally professional and the program
was so varied, it satisfied every taste.  Halfway through the performance I
began to envy Doug and wished I could join him singing with the Chorus.
The audience, including Doug and I, gave them a standing ovation.

On the way out of the theater, we received several invitations from Doug's
friends to join them at one bar or another.  I reckoned that they were gay
bars and dear old Doug declined all the invitations.  He knew I wouldn't
want to go.  One of his friends actually said, "What's your hurry to get
home you two.  Sex can wait.  It will be better after a drink or two
anyway."

Both of us turned beet red, and I stupidly said, "Oh no.  We're just
friends.  I'm straight."

The sarcastic reply was to be expected: "Sure you are!"

So that's how we found ourselves in Doug's kitchen waiting for the coffee
to finish perking instead of drinking something stronger in a bar.  "God, I
envy you, Doug.  I'd give anything to sing with those guys," I announced.

"Why don't you audition?"

"Are you nuts.  I'm not gay."

"You could pretend.  Gay guys pass as straight every day of the week."

"That would be dishonest," I said.  "Besides, if anybody at work, or one of
my girl friends, ever found out that I sang with a gay group, I'd be in
deep shit."

"Really!" Doug said.  "Well think about it.  Gay men have to lie and deny
their sexuality constantly to protect their jobs.  Some of them even lie to
protect sham marriages.  You don't want me to think that they are braver
than you are, do you?"

I did think about it and for the first time in my life I was angered at the
thought that society forced men and women to be dishonest about their
identities.  Did I indeed have the guts to pretend to be gay and risk any
consequences that might arise?

"I'll do it," I said simply.  And that's how I happened to become another
handsome baritone in The Gay Men's Chorus of Boston.  It's also how I came
to an awareness of the evils of homophobia, and that's how one straight man
became an advocate for gay rights.

As Doug and I rehearsed at least twice a week, I began to make friendships
among the chorus members.  We always declined going to a bar after
rehearsals, and our friends could not understand what the problem was.
They were aware that Doug and I were just friends and not a couple.
Finally one evening, before Doug could say no, I said yes.

"Are you OK with this?" Doug whispered to me.

"We'll find out won't we."

I know you would like me to say that I had a great time at the gay bar, and
even began to have feelings for Doug or one of the guys.  FORGET ABOUT IT.
I was very uncomfortable and gulped down my first drink to help me relax.
I was in the middle of my second drink when one of the guys grabbed my arm
and dragged me on the dance floor.  I had never danced with a man before,
but I started to sway to the music.  I began to relax because our bodies
never had to touch.  The music helped my mind and body lose any tension I
might have experienced coming into the bar.  I suddenly realized that I was
comfortable with my sexuality, and I was just as comfortable being with
guys who were comfortable with theirs.  If they weren't comfortable with
themselves, well tough shit on them.  From that moment on, I had a great
time, and Doug and I continued to socialize with our fellow chorus members.

After that it was one bad incident after another.  One evening, coming out
of a bar, we were suddenly pelted with bricks being thrown by a bunch of
teen agers yelling, "Faggots!"  I was incensed.  I picked up a brick and
ran to the group.  I was twice as big as any one of them.  I grabbed one by
the arm and smashed the brick into his face, grinding it into his nose.  I
vaguely heard Doug yelling at me to stop.

"They're only kids.  Let go."

One of the boys tried to get me off his buddy and he got my elbow in his
nose.  He started to bleed profusely and that ended the melee.  The boys
ran off yelling, "We'll get you faggots."

One of the guys said, "You were very heroic, Jim, but next time they'll
come better prepared.  You shouldn't have done it."

At this point I was angrier with my friends than the mob.  "We've got to,"
I started to say, but changed it to "You've got to fight back.  You can't
let punks like this do this to you,"

"You sound like you just became gay yesterday.  Didn't you get this shit in
school?  If you fought back, it was worse the next time."  I remembered
then that Doug had told me about incidents he had suffered in high school,
but they had never seemed so bad to me and I dismissed them from my mind.

Actually these kids never bothered us again.

The next incident occurred after the first concert in which I performed.
One of the architects in our firm was gay and out.  Nobody ever badgered
him.  Frank was just one of the staff.  I can't explain what compelled him,
but he took it upon himself to out me.  He had been at the concert and saw
me on the stage.  He confirmed that it was I by checking the listing of
baritones in the Playbill.  Of course he assumed I was gay, and became
angry that I didn't have the guts to come out, so he outed me at work the
following Monday morning.

Reactions were mixed.  Some of the women I was putting the make on totally
shunned me and expressed their anger.  Other women thought it was kind of
cool and wanted to be buddies with me.  Most of the guys didn't seem to
care, but one or two made homophobic remarks, and they met my fist.  That
essentially put a stop to that.

My first impulse was to explain to Frank that I was only pretending to be
gay in order to be able to sing in The Chorus, but I changed my mind, and I
decided to let Frank and my co-workers think what they wanted to.  I knew I
was walking in a gay man's shoes and I was not ashamed of it.  At that
moment I became active in the fight for gay rights.  Frank was proud of me
and a little disappointed that I was only interested in his friendship and
nothing more.

The next traumatic incident occurred when I got a call from my dad.  My
folks lived in Springfield, Mass., and they had a good friend whose son was
attending Boston University.  Jake and I had many friends in common so it
was inevitable that one day Jake heard that I was gay.  He told his father
who told my father.  Is nobody's privacy respected anymore?

My dad was incensed, not only about my perceived sexual orientation, but
that I didn't trust him enough to tell him the truth.  I explained to him
why I was a closeted straight man, but I don't think he bought my story.
His very last words before he hung up were, "I'm very disappointed in you."
It wasn't easy being in the closet, and my empathy for closeted gays was
growing stronger by the day.

After my initial anger at Frank Gibbs for outing me, I cooled down and he
and I became good friends.  I hadn't noticed before but he was very
handsome.  He was taller than either Doug or me and he had curly blond
hair, hazel eyes and a very winning smile.  When all this struck me, and
our budding friendship revealed to me what a great guy he was, I began to
think of him as someone for Doug.  Dammit, I was getting so gay that I was
planning on doing a little matchmaking. I loved the idea.

I arranged a dinner out with Doug and asked if he would mind if I brought
along a co-worker.  We rarely allowed a third party into our time together
and I knew Doug was a little irritated, but he assented.  I was absolutely
correct in my assessment, and the two of them hit it off at first sight.
By the end of the meal I was a third wheel, and my two friends were
exchanging business cards.  I was more than pleased and a little bit
jealous also.

About a week later, Doug called me just as I stepped out of my morning
shower.  He was so excited he could hardly talk.  He kept hyperventilating
and I had to warn him to calm down.

I heard him take a deep breath.  "Frank and I had sex last night.  He's got
the most beautiful cock I have ever seen, sucked, or been fucked by.  It
was different than with anyone else I have ever slept with.  He's
fantastic.  Jimmy baby, I think we're in love."

"That's great," I said, pretending disinterest, "but it's really TMI for me
anyhow.  Now can I get ready for work?  I'll see you tonight at dinner."

"Yes, you will," Doug said.  "I'm invited to Frank's for dinner this
evening.  When he sees you at work this morning, he's going to invite you
too.  Ta ta, I'll see you this evening."

When I got to the office, Frank literally swooped down on me.  "Thank you
with all my heart for introducing me to Doug.  He's absolutely the greatest
guy I have ever met.  I'm making dinner for us tonight and you are
invited."

"I'll come, but I hope I can stomach all this gushiness."  I managed to
spit out the words, trying to sound very disgusted by his school boy
actions.  Inside, I was celebrating.

Doug and I went to Frank's apartment together.  I brought along a bottle of
champagne to toast their newly formed union.  When we arrived, I was
shocked that the door was opened by the most beautiful blond bombshell that
I have ever seen.  She smiled at us and held out her hand.

"Hi, I'm Sherry Gibbs, Frank's sister.  Who's Doug and who's Jim?" she
asked. I couldn't take my eyes off of her and I was struck dumb by her
beauty.  Doug answered for both of us, although he needn't have bothered.
Frank ran to the door, grabbed Doug in a bear hug and kissed him full on
the lips.  That having been done, Sherry wrapped her arm in mine, and led
me into the living room.  "Can I get you a drink?" she asked me.

I couldn't answer.  My jaw wouldn't get shut and my groin was throbbing.
What a dilemma.  Frank thought I was gay and so Sherry must think so also.
If I was to stand a chance with Sherry, I had to figure a way to come out
to them, and let them know that I was straight.  How would they take it?
Would Frank hate me for my deceit?  What would Sherry think of me?  Now I
knew how a gay man felt when he was faced with the decision of coming out.

"Frank tells me that you both sing in the Gay Men's Chorus," Sherry said.
"I've seen them perform often and they're really great."

Finally I managed something like a sound.  "Uh huh!" I stupidly replied.

Doug added, "We're both baritones."

"I can't wait for the next concert," Sherry said as she poured us all a
glass of red wine.

I was very quiet because I was very miserable, but Doug and Frank kept
chattering away like school girls.  "How gay!" I thought, as I kept staring
at Sherry.  Neither she nor I said much during dinner, not that we could
get a word in edgewise.

Finally while Frank and Doug were catching their breaths, Sherry said,
"It's true what they say.  All the best guys are either married or gay.
It's the story of my life."  She stared at me with a kind of look that
said, "Isn't it too bad."

Misery was my middle name.  I knew I had to come out and that would mean
risking Frank's friendship and maybe irritating Sherry as a result.  My
mind went back to when Doug came out to me.  It truly made no difference to
me.  I loved the guy!  Maybe Frank would be as magnanimous.

I tapped my knife on my wine glass calling for attention.  I cleared my
throat and began. "Frank and Sherry I need to make a confession.  Frank you
might get angry at me, but please try to understand."

Frank started to laugh.  "If you are going to tell me that you finally have
the hots for me, it's too late.  I've got Doug here and he's all the man I
want."

"It's not that at all.  Please people, don't interrupt me again.  This is
very difficult."  I got their attention again and nobody spoke.  I looked
at Doug and could see a look of encouragement on his face for what I was
about to say.

"I'm straight," I blurted out.  "I pretended to be gay so I could sing with
Doug in The Chorus.  I swear, I'm the straightest man you will ever meet."
Then I heard it again, more mocking than the first time.  "Sure you are!"
Frank and Sherry said in unison.

"I swear" my voice pleaded.  "I'm still the same me.  I sing with gay men
and I champion their causes, but I'm straight.  I can't help that I'm
straight.  It's not my choice.  I was born that way.  You can't possibly
hate me for that.  Doug, tell them please."

"I'm not saying anything.  I'm not in the habit of outing straight people,"
Doug answered me and burst out laughing.

"Do you know how funny that sounded?  You acted just like a gay man
pleading for acceptance, and I love you for that."  Doug came over to me
and hugged me.

When he let go, Frank embraced me as well.  "We've been playing with you,"
he said.  "When two people are in bed together making love, they tend to
confide in each other.  Doug told me the whole story, and I could never be
mad at you, but I will tell you this.  I outed you once in the office.
This time you are on your own.

"Because I knew you were straight, I asked Sherry to come tonight.  You
knew that Doug and I were meant for each other, and I feel the same way
about you and Sherry.  Based on the way you two have been looking at each
other this evening, I think I got a pretty good reading."

It was Frank's turn to let go of me and Sherry took my hand.  "I'm really
glad you're straight," she said.  "Not all the good ones are married or
gay."

At the first rehearsal of The Chorus after this incident, I took the
conductor aside and came out to him.  I was surprised that he wasn't too
shocked.  "I kind of suspected," he said, "but your voice is too good to
lose you.  If you want to, you can stay on as our token straight guy."
That got us both laughing.

Well time does indeed fly.  Frank and Doug have been legally married for
many years, thanks to the enlightenment of the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts.  They still live in Beacon Hill but in a much larger
apartment.  I no longer sing with the Chorus because I don't live in town
any more and it's difficult to make rehearsals.  Sherry and I, and our
three kids, live in suburban Boston in Needham.  Our entire family has
remained very close.  My kids love their uncles to death, and why not?
They spoil them silly.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of how difficult it was for me to come
out as a straight man.  My heart goes out to all the gay men who must face
that challenge every day.

Just let me assure you that it won't matter one bit to the ones who truly
love you.  I promise you that.