Saturday, September 3, 2011

Hate Being Black?!

Whenever we have an epiphany about a flawed idea of ours, whether your belief system calls it an act of God, the devil, or fate, some occurrence arises to put us to the test. Making us sometimes question if we were right to change our minds about that situation, thing, person, or type of person. In this case, I was recently tested on overcoming my racism against other Black males - not once, but twice.

Both incidents happened at the NYC bar, The Cock.

The most recent incident I'll speak on happened this past Tuesday's Big Gulp party at The Cock. I was standing at the bar waiting for the bartender to come by so I can order a drink. While I'm waiting, I feel these hands patting my ass. Thinking it might be one of my friends who I run into at the bar on a Tuesday night, I was hoping my 6th sense would pick up a vibe of familiarity to ward off  the possible aggravation of my space and body being intruded upon, and my potentially violent reaction to defend both. No such luck. So I turned around, and it's some Black guy that I've don't even know. I looked at him and said, "Excuse me. You really need to stop that."

He said, "I was just admiring it.", while patting it a couple times more.

Practicing restrain with every fiber of my being to not spin him around, and put both of his hands behind him making 2 chicken wings, I said, "Well, I didn't extend an invitation. So you need to stop."

"OK. Then I'll just wait for my invitation then."

To avoid the aforementioned potentially violent reaction, I used my mouth to shoot off a warning shot by replying to his audacity by saying, "Well, you will be a gray-haired old man with a beard hanging down to the floor, and you still won't get an invitation."

This was all while a cute tall, slim blond was standing next to me, checking me out. And I only became more pissed off by this Black guy's actions because I started thinking to myself how if this blond is hearing any of this, his first impression of me is having the worse in me being provoked to surface by some socially inept asshole.

Later on in the night, I was heading to the restroom. As I was going in the same Black guy was there at the door. He said, "Hello"

I smiled back and said, "Hello". Because this was a much better approach than the one he gave before. I was even about to let this be the 1st step in him redeeming himself from his intrusive behavior earlier.

That is until I became aware that he didn't realize it was me until I responded. So he snidely replied, "Oh, it's you! The one who didn't want to be touched."

I ignored him, and proceeded with my night. Which included me eventually meeting up with the tall blond who was at the bar when I saw that asshole.

The blond was walking away from the bar as I was walking towards it to get a soda. We saw each other in passing, made eye contact, and I stopped my trip to the bar as he stopped his trip to where he was going. We simultaneously moved towards each other, and exchanged greetings. I heard an accent, and it turns out he was Norwegian. We made out heavily, even until the bar closed, and continued outside.

While outside the bar, we continued making out having no idea of what we were going to do beyond the bar. One guy came by and said that we looked so cute together that he wanted to take our picture, so we let him. That's not the 1st time such a thing has happened. Not to toot my own horn, but while I'm already photogenic on my own as a model, it seems that I'm often with guys who are either equally photogenic, or have an aura that compliments mine so much that they make strangers want a memento of the sexual and/or romantic indications of our being near each other.

Eventually, me and the Norwegian took a cab back to my place. He started undoing my pants to give me a blowjob in the backseat of the cab. Now, this guy was pretty tall. So his head bobbing up and down as he leaned over to suck me off I'm sure was quite obvious should the cab driver decide to look at us in his rear view mirror. So since the cab driver didn't know exactly where to go, I played it off as if the Norwegian was just laying on my lap while I'm moved my head pretending to try to look at street signs to make sure the cab driver is on the right path.

What made me write this post is because looking back, the Norwegian could have been replaced by that Black guy. Because had it not been for his lousy approach, I would  have found him attractive. And I had the feeling that his reason for his wrong approach was because, he was a Black male in place dominated by light complexions, and with racism is the American gay community being as plentiful as it is, he felt no matter how he approached me,  being a "brother", I was "a sure thing".

WRONG! Just because racism is so rampant in the gay community, doesn't mean that you can touch and fondle me just because we are perceived to be of the same ethnicity thinking "us brothers must stick together". For your are NOT my"brother" having that mindset. Being a "brother" to me is about your character, NOT your skin color.

Furthermore. I have standards and rules of etiquette set for myself and my suitors, even when participating in some kind of backroom action. And those standards and rules of etiquette are blind to your initial cuteness, height, weight, and color. For once you show yourself to be lacking enough in character to break those rules, no matter what outer beauty you might have had in your favor, you have just made yourself such an ugly creature inside that it has infected you outside to where you must be dismissed, and keep invading my space, possibly disposed of.

This bring me to backtrack to the 1st incident. I saw these 2 guys who being the lousy judge of ethnicity that I am, I wasn't sure if they were White American, European, or some light-complexioned Latinos. One with dark hair, the other bald. I noticed the dark-haired one checking me out, and whispering to his bald friend while doing so. I never made a move to get near them even though they were attractive. I'm always horny, but I usually let chance create my situations, and this was one of those nights. It wasn't until I went to the bathroom, came out, and chose not to go to far as to avoid going back into the crowd where I had already received some unwanted attention that night that someone walked pass me, and came so close that I leaned back, and almost fell back on someone. I tapped that someone's hand to acknowledge them back there just in case they didn't hear me say my apologies over the loud music. When I turned to see who I was talking to, it turned out being the bald guy from those 2 guys I saw earlier. Our hands slowly started grazing each others'. I wasn't sure if this was on purpose or not, until it kept happening, and then he slipped his finger into my hand rubbing my palm. Like I said before, I thought they both were attractive, so I went with it. He started feeling me up from behind, and as I reached back to return the favor, I realized someone was behind him. It was the dark-haired guy who was originally checking me out.  Well, I wasn't going to begrudge this 2-for-1 grope session, so I continued going with it.

Of course, the first thing on me that got felt up below my waist was my ass. I reached back and did the same on them both. As things progressed, the bald guy loosened my pants so he could reach down inside to feel my cock, which was only semi-hard, because when it comes to getting hard, I'm more responsive to actual touch than I am to simple arousal. So once he dug down into my pants and started playing with it, I started growing in his hand. At this point, the dark-haired one came from the back, and got in front of me. So now I was in a sandwich. The dark-haired one reached into my pants and got a feel as well. He then started to totally undo my pants to pull my dick completely out while the bald guy took advantage of feeling my bare ass being more accessible to grope freely.

Especially at The Cock, it's times like these when one pants get loose in dark corners and hitting the floor that pickpockets spring into action. I know this because that's how some time ago, my iPod was stolen from the pocket of my hoodie while giving a blowjob. So by this point, I had enough hands on me that I needed to focus my mind on too many things at once. That's when while I was standing there with my cock out in between these 2 guys, a Black guy comes along, and starts reaching for my dick. Normally in such situations, I'll allow a touch, but when I say "stop", then stop. Especially since one of the 2 guy's hands were already on my dick, and I don't have a foot-long cock. So even though his moans from initially seeing me were a bit off-putting, I allowed the Black guy a couple of touches, then I politely stopped him. But instead of taking the hint of "that's enough", he tries a few more times to put his hand on my dick, with each try getting the same response from me. By now, it would be perfectly within my right to break his fuckin' fingers. My 2 original suitors break away, and we thank each other for the fun moment, and go our separate ways.

As I was going on my way, the Black looks at me and says, "Admit it. You hate being black."

I looked at him seething with anger and replied, "No, I don't hate being Black. I just hate you". Because he also showed himself to be so common of a Black male in a place dominated by light complexions where if he:
(1) goes for one of the few other Blacks in the room, because he feels that an easy bet, and;
(2) doesn't get the Black person they got their eye on, then that Black person is a hater of their own ethnicity.

Now, I have repeatedly admitted to overcoming my racism against other Black males. I have also repeated how my 1st time of sex with a Black male is forever on DVD in "Oh Boy Escorts 2" with my scene partner, "Joseph Nash", now known on RandyBlue as "Jackson Kale". 
And in recent years, I have had sex with Blacks off-camera. And since I can attest to how none of those encounters were because of being in a drug and/or alcohol induced haze, I can thankfully say I have no regrets. So what turned me off to this guy was as I said before, my body was occupied enough and his moaning showing a vibe of desperation made him less attractive.

And why would I hate being Black? For my black skin is part of what these guys, and every suitor in my past, present, and future are drawn to because of it being the beautiful color that it is. Now, I admit that it may be hard to remember that because of LGBT media making it seem that "light is right" and practicing tokenism to avoid charges of racism, and the many dumb gays who follow the media's lead. I have to stop and take the time to remember that, and love my black skin.

Especially when I take note of the fact that when many of these guys of light complexions the media is making out to be so beautiful hit my age and older, they won't be drawing in younger guys the way I can. That is, unless they pay for these young guys' time, and/or pay to have some kind of work done to hide the wear and tear of drugs, alcohol, partying, and living up to the expectations of being perceived as "young, light, and beautiful".

So taking all that into account, me hate being Black?! ....Mother Fucker, Please!

While the 2 Black guys who annoyed me could have made me backpedal on overcoming my racism against other Black males, I had to remember something that EVERY person of EVERY ethnicity must remember about one another. That being how a few bad apples brought to our attention doesn't speak for an entire ethnicity. And if we have been adult enough to overcome that shortsightedness to make us think otherwise, we can't let a few bastards of whatever ethnicity weaken us to return to a life of being narrow-minded.

1 comment:

  1. While I could adress the whole of this article, I'll just say this: Gay men need to understand that just because they and others are in a gay bar, it is not an open invitation to touch or be touched. Respect goes much further than inapproriate groping. - Ben Marksman



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