They always seem to be falling apart. Older gentlemen, celebrating their 19th or 20th anniversaries of their 39th birthdays, forever on the cusp of middle age. R had hernia surgery (on his 5th hernia) 2 days ago and I went over to help them on our annual get together to move the air conditioners downstairs.
Their story is long, longer than I can tell you in a day and then that's only the surface that I know. So, we'll stick to the highlights.....
I was 18, a farm boy WAY over his head thinking he could just move to NYC after 1 year of college in Westchester. I had been grandfathered into a upper west side apartment by a college roommate and was working everyday at a pizzaria just to pay the insane rent. My home was 7x14 feet without a kitchen and a shared bathroom on the floor. I had room for a bed, a small refrigerator, a microwave and a TV (the microwave was on top of the fridge, the TV on top of that). The rent was $736.40, trust me, I remember. I got the pizza job through the same roommate's mother who told me when I returned from my 2 week stint back in Idaho I'd have a job waiting, and she wasn't lying.
Of course, the flight into LGA was delayed and my luggage never showed at the airport. I sat and sat watching 1 heavily taped cardboard box go round in circles on the luggage rack until the box disappeared, taken by someone behind the concrete curtain, and the whole machine ground to a halt; no more flights were coming in. When I got my luggage the next day some DVDs and video games were missing...but, that's besides the point.
It was my first day training at the pizzeria. It was a Friday and I was told to reserve this corner table for a 6pm reservation, no it wasn't in the book, and I could remember to do this every week from now on, special regulars. So they walk in, one big one small, R and B. R comes to me, asks if I'm new, scratch that, tells me I'm new as he knows EVERYONE that has ever worked at the place. I tell him I go the job through Ralph, was his roommate in college. "The poor thing he says" and commences to bash on my only friend in New York.
I'm 18, a cute, fresh faced farm boy, perfect prey out in the open. It's the opening night of the first Harry Potter movie and they have an extra ticket. They ask what I'm doing, I say I'm here training, it's my first day and I'm nervous as hell. He leaves, comes back, says "your off and your coming with us to the movie." I look at Rick the manager, he nods, I get my bag and we're off.
In the theater he tells me very VERY lewd stories of his time in the army as we're sitting waiting for the movie to start. I mean, this is one of the most highly anticipated kids films of the year and I'm sitting with a stranger who just pulled me from my first day at work telling me he "got up every morning, fucked him in the ass, I went to work and he went back to bed. It was the perfect arrangement!" Needless to say I was a little scared and it made it more confusing that they LOVED Harry Potter. (I'm finally reading the 7th book because every time we talk they hound and hound me to finish the series. "Have your read the 7th book?" "No, not yet." "If you don't read it I'm gonna take you over my knee and spank ya'. But, then again you'd probably like it too much.").
We became friends, seeing each other every Friday and eventually they took me in as a son type character, helping me with places to stay when the SUNY system kicked us out on breaks and my plane was a day or two later, feeding me sausage and meatballs (with as much sexual innuendo as possible), giving me mountains of clothing 2 sizes too big, and just being a constant in my NY life. They have also opened my eyes, or desensitized me, to some extremes of gay life and sexuality. R once told me a story about how he had a lover who's anus was so big R had to reach both hands in and jerk himself off just to get anything out of fucking the guy.
R was at StoneWall, and if you don't know click on the link and read up. It is a very important event in NY Gay history and Gay rights.
The two of them couldn't be more opposite. R is gruff, outgoing, shorter and built, lewd, and takes no shit form anyone. B is more soft spoken, tall and skinny, constantly having to playfully scold R when he makes a dirty remark, and a masseuse. They are a treasure to behold, characters to the extreme only beaten by the company they hold. I've met more characters in their company than you can shake a stick at, and the list gets bigger and bigger as the years pass. And they are deeply in love with one another to the point in wrenches your heart open. I love to watch them squabble and flirt and act like an old married couple.
In return for their care I'd come over and help around the house, lifting things, installing shower bars and shelves for R's (and later B's as well) C-PAP machines (for sleep apnea). I was constantly asked to become their naked house boy, often in front of friends, and they have seen me naked (R was the first to call me a bubble butt, which frankly, is true). For a while I was sure they were trying to get me into some sort of 3 some, mostly due to Ralph's not so joking concern about their interest in me and my lack on contact with gay men. But, over time I came to realize that they truly loved me like a son, but without all the drama and baggage a son carries. They loved my girlfriends, give thoughtful Christmas gifts, and always call to see how I am.
But, they are a bit of a wreck. In one day, B fell down the stairs of the subway during the Queens Summer blackouts, tearing a leg ligament, and R scratched his cornea by getting some dust in his eye just the wrong way. Needless to say I was over more often during the recovery period to go to BJs (I know, someone should have thought it was a bad idea and R likes to tell me it's my favorite store) to get water bottles and other necessities. Not much later they got in a car wreck, then another wreck, then a bunch of other hospital visits I can't even remember when why or how. It seems I only see them when one or both is incapacitated somehow. But, through it all they stay happy and I'm inspired by that.
One of the worst times was when their long time companion, Benny Goots, a Westy who was very sluggish, blind, and limp, but a real sweetie, died. It was a long time coming, but it crushed, I mean CRUSHED them, R especially. Listen, when you're 2 gay men, your dog IS your child. They had lost their child and were just so down; always talking about him, keeping his old toys around, it was a bad time. Then, the flipside: they got a new Westy puppy. Named him Frodo Baggins (they love Lord of the Rings too and have watched the entire extended version box set in a row at least twice). The puppy seemed to revitalize them and I have never seen them happier. The thing is like a monster on speed where Benny was a angel on pain killers. Frodo is great and he has poured his youthfulness into them. They really have changed since bringing him into the family and I always say you can tell a lot about people by their pets and you know from Frodo that R & B are great people.
So, it's been 5 years now since that first Harry Potter movie (we've gone to every one since by the way and they are VERY upset at the recent push back of the latest film) and we meet when we can on Fridays at the Pizzeria (or Wednesdays at the same pizzeria on Bleaker st.) or at their home in Queens. They have met my family (got 11 of us into a crowded restaurant without reservations) and I've been to the doctor a few more times with them. I learn new things about them every time I go to meet them (R is related to the real-life man who the Godfather is based off of) and learn a lot from them.
I don't get out to see them as much as I should, and I never remember to call, just like a real son. It's never been a burden to go and help them out, I'm glad to help them. I'm sure from an outsider's perspective it looks like I'm the good guy, going out to care for the aging, gay, accident prone couple, but they're wrong. We look out for each other, because that is what a family does, they look out for each other, and I know that I always have a home, I always have someone to turn to no matter what is this home away from home, New York City. I have my Gay Godfathers.
-Idaho Bob-
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