Home, Adolescence, Predators
Here's one of those creepy stories that comes back to you from being forced to return to the city of your adolescence:
There was this barbecue I went to when I was 14 years old, at the house of some people who were friends of one of my friend's mom's. Me and him and two other friends were there and it was summer and we were all still too young to drink (in front of parents at least) so we were standing around looking awkward as the adults got drunk and the sun started to go down.
That's when something strange happened. The closest person to our age, out of any of the other people at the party, was a 19 year old who was a friend of the people who were throwing the party and lived a block away. The kid came up to us and talked with us for a while. It seemed like he was more interested in being around us than any of the older people at the party. Being the gay kid (though still far in the closet), I read the interest he took in us and the direct glances he made differently than the rest of my friends did. As a result, the others weren't as aware of the tension in the air when he made the inevitable advance - he invited the four of us to go back to his room to watch some porno tapes with him.
Between his invitation, his words, and his confidence as he watched us give up on a baseball game, I was sure of one thing - that he was planning on raping us. That's why I went along with it, readily.
So he took us to his house and upstairs to his room, where he showed off his video games, his music, and before long put a Girls Gone Wild DVD on his PS2. But nothing happened. We all sat there and watched the video in silence, and though he was watching us, and I could swear he had only put on the video to see how we would react, he just sat there, watching us, with a smile on his face. Maybe it had all been in my head and it was completely innocent of him to invite us back to his room. Or maybe he had gone as far as a certain point and given up. He was probably an amateur at this. Either way, before long, his mother came back to the house and it was over. He shut the video off and we left.
The reason why I bring this story up is that the other day I saw that boy, now twenty-seven years old, working as a waiter at a restaurant I went to with my father and his girlfriend after I got off work. I got up to piss and was walking by the bar when I saw him, in a white shirt and tie and bar apron, and for just a moment we made eye contact as we approached, until he turned away, sharply. It was the look you might give to a guy you've hooked up with, as if to acknowledge that he's a part of your life and to simultaneously signal that you want him out. That may not be the intent, but it's the effect. Anyway, it was tension.
I haven't spoken to the guy since that day. I don't know where he is in life, but I know where I am, and I'm sure it's a completely different place. Still, I almost wonder if he's ever thought about what might have happened if he had done more than just thrown his gaze across the room, as he stared at my crotch and watched for signs of interest, excitement, anything really. I probably learned something from him that day all those years ago. He was one of the first men I can remember watching me that way, and it was a look that I've since become accustomed to. And the fact that he didn't do anything about it, but just stared, I think I learned something from that as well. I think I learned something about men and their reservations, about limits, about closets, and about fear.
There was this barbecue I went to when I was 14 years old, at the house of some people who were friends of one of my friend's mom's. Me and him and two other friends were there and it was summer and we were all still too young to drink (in front of parents at least) so we were standing around looking awkward as the adults got drunk and the sun started to go down.
That's when something strange happened. The closest person to our age, out of any of the other people at the party, was a 19 year old who was a friend of the people who were throwing the party and lived a block away. The kid came up to us and talked with us for a while. It seemed like he was more interested in being around us than any of the older people at the party. Being the gay kid (though still far in the closet), I read the interest he took in us and the direct glances he made differently than the rest of my friends did. As a result, the others weren't as aware of the tension in the air when he made the inevitable advance - he invited the four of us to go back to his room to watch some porno tapes with him.
Between his invitation, his words, and his confidence as he watched us give up on a baseball game, I was sure of one thing - that he was planning on raping us. That's why I went along with it, readily.
So he took us to his house and upstairs to his room, where he showed off his video games, his music, and before long put a Girls Gone Wild DVD on his PS2. But nothing happened. We all sat there and watched the video in silence, and though he was watching us, and I could swear he had only put on the video to see how we would react, he just sat there, watching us, with a smile on his face. Maybe it had all been in my head and it was completely innocent of him to invite us back to his room. Or maybe he had gone as far as a certain point and given up. He was probably an amateur at this. Either way, before long, his mother came back to the house and it was over. He shut the video off and we left.
The reason why I bring this story up is that the other day I saw that boy, now twenty-seven years old, working as a waiter at a restaurant I went to with my father and his girlfriend after I got off work. I got up to piss and was walking by the bar when I saw him, in a white shirt and tie and bar apron, and for just a moment we made eye contact as we approached, until he turned away, sharply. It was the look you might give to a guy you've hooked up with, as if to acknowledge that he's a part of your life and to simultaneously signal that you want him out. That may not be the intent, but it's the effect. Anyway, it was tension.
I haven't spoken to the guy since that day. I don't know where he is in life, but I know where I am, and I'm sure it's a completely different place. Still, I almost wonder if he's ever thought about what might have happened if he had done more than just thrown his gaze across the room, as he stared at my crotch and watched for signs of interest, excitement, anything really. I probably learned something from him that day all those years ago. He was one of the first men I can remember watching me that way, and it was a look that I've since become accustomed to. And the fact that he didn't do anything about it, but just stared, I think I learned something from that as well. I think I learned something about men and their reservations, about limits, about closets, and about fear.
High School, Me, The Suburbs | Posted by MDW at 3:05 AM |
4 comments:
Interesting story. Who knows what goes on in a guy's head? We can only sometimes assume the others intentions. Especially at that age it's kind of hard to read but he does sound like a perv.
good story
That's a powerful story. Very well written. Thanks for sharing it.
Fascinating and thought provoking. Thanks for sharing your experience and thanks also for not drawing conclusions or passing judgments but leaving it open-ended for your readers to think about. Great. Thanks again.
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