Thursday, February 9, 2012

Jesus' Son

I've always been drawn to people who would probably be considered eccentric by most. I'm not talking about the chakra readers on Venice Beach or the guy that makes art from his own poo, I just mean quirky types. Particularly artists of all stripes, such as painters, musicians, comedians, designers, etc. That's not to say that I've never found a buttoned-down C.P.A. to be sexy, I have, it's just less likely for me.

So when I met Matt (not his real name) I was instantly drawn to him. Matt is extremely good-looking; attractive to just about anyone who's ever laid eyes on him. Matt is also pretty fuckin' weird. Now see, in my experience, one of the major differences between dating a guy and dating a girl is that guys usually let you know right away just how crazy they are; usually before the end of the first date. And let's face it, we're all varying degrees of weird. Women are every bit as nutty, but with women you have to wait, sometimes months, before you find out just how weird. They hide it well. Like the girlfriend who would only pee with the lights off, or the girlfriend who didn't believe in evolution, or the girlfriend that still had a crush on her brother (yes, all real life confessions I've heard).

Now Matt is a Creole Jew from Alaska...yeah, I know, right!? So of course he's gonna be a little out there. And he was a bit strange from the get-go. He was an unemployed raw foodist with his own personal infrared sauna in his apartment and had aspirations of being an actor. He also gave himself enemas on a regular basis; common practice among gay men (for sex reasons which should be fairly obvious), but Matt was doing it strictly for "health reasons". These are all things I found out very early on in the relationship. OK, so those are all somewhat unusual, but, to me, not grounds for a break-up. Not when he's also a very sweet, kind, funny, intellectually curious guy. And he's cute as Hell with a butt like an apple. Damn, he's cute.

So, basically I thought these strange habits and lifestyle choices were the extent of it. And I actually found myself really falling for Matt. This was the first time I'd found myself falling for a guy. He made me laugh like few people ever have. I enjoyed making him laugh. He was incredibly thoughtful and giving of himself. Life with him just very warm and felt so right. He was there for me for an extremely volatile time in my life, and for that he'll always have a place in my heart. But then came the aliens.

Full disclosure: I've always had an interest in the paranormal. I am not a believer in UFO's or ghosts or Bigfoot, but I would say I'm an enthusiast. I like science fiction and I'll watch almost any show on the paranormal if it's on TV. This was something Matt and I had in common. So one day, we were watching a show about UFO's and Matt asked me my opinion of them. I told him that I while I enjoy thinking about the subject I've never seen any conclusive proof of alien visitation. Everything I've ever seen had a possible down-to-Earth explanation, though I am open to the possibility. Odds are there is intelligent life somewhere in the Universe besides Earth. So I asked him his opinion...and that's when he dropped the bomb.

"Well, when I was a kid I was abducted by aliens." At first I thought he was kidding; he has a dry sense of humor and he liked to say off-the-wall things to make me laugh. So I chuckled and said, "Yeah, sure." And that's when he let loose with a story straight from every crazy-ass alien abduction movie you've ever seen. And then he began adding shit that would make even the craziest conspiracy theorist skeptical. You see, the aliens chose him because he was the most prized of abductees...he was a direct descendent of Jesus. Yeah, that Jesus. The water-to-wine, died-on-the-cross, reason-for-the-season guy. The aliens had abducted him, taken him to an underground base somewhere and conducted experiments on him. He wouldn't elaborate on these experiments, but would only say that they had to do with the supernatural/Jesus-like traits that he used to possess as an "Indigo child".

I don't know which part of it I found harder to believe; the aliens, the abduction, Indigo children or Jesus. There are a million details that I'm forgetting from what was something like a 4-hour conversation, but you get the gist. So, I left his apartment that night unsure what to think. He wasn't jerking my chain, I could tell he really did mean what he said. Almost immediately I began trying to rationalize it, was it so much weirder than some of the stuff that devoutly religious people believe: talking snakes, Adam and Eve, Noah's Ark, people turning into pillars of salt, creationism, etc.? Maybe not, but then later that week he told me about the "spiritual training" he'd been doing with his psychologist. I knew he was seeing a psychologist. Not so unusual, who couldn't use a little therapy now and then? But, as it turns out, this wasn't your typical, "how does that make you feel?" kind of therapist. No, this one specialized in hypnosis and was actively trying to help Matt "regain" his supernatural powers, the ones he thought he'd once possessed as a child. The ones the aliens had somehow managed to rid him of.

And still, breaking up with him was really hard. Not because I didn't realize I had to...I did, 'cause in at least one aspect of his life he was bat-shit crazy, but because I still genuinely cared for him and wanted him to be happy. I had no ill will towards him whatsoever, and no desire to hurt him. He still had a very kind and giving, if looney, soul. He was actually very understanding of my need to break up. He was cognizant of the fact that what he was saying was hard to believe (which also leads me to believe that he's not actually crazy). We bade each other good luck and promised to keep in touch. Which we do. He's still a friend and we chat from time to time, just not about his Divine ancestry.

Saturday, February 4, 2012

Dating Is A Pain

She was cute. She had a quick, acerbic wit. She had a big, dumb, lovable dog named Tugboat. Jesus, how could you not love a dog named Tugboat! Our musical tastes weren't perfectly aligned, but there was plenty of common ground. And, most importantly, she seemed to dig me--a quality lacking in far too many women.

Conversation flowed. I felt comfortable enough to playfully tease her and she deftly gave it right back to me. We people-watched over dinner and joked about our surroundings. It had been a long time since a date had felt so right. This girl was different. This was someone that I could honestly see a relationship with from the get-go. Or so I thought.

We'd originally intended to go to a lecture for the second half of our date, but we were enjoying our conversation way too much to put it on hold for a couple of hours. So we decided to walk to the beach instead. I don't know quite how far we went, but round-trip it took over two hours. We got dessert at the Santa Monica Pier when she suggested we go back to her place. I was beside myself.

When we got back to my car she pounced. I'm not one for making out in or near public, so I was a bit apprehensive at first--fumbling for my keys, wanting to get back to her place as soon as possible, but she obviously wanted to make out then and there. So we did. Then she dropped the bomb. Though, she'd waited until I was my most undone and my penis in her hand. She breathily said in my ear, "God, you know what would get me really fuckin' hot?" "Hmm?", I grunted in response. "If you would run over my hands with your car."

I just kinda laughed at first and commenced with the making out. It didn't sound like she was joking, but she obviously couldn't be serious. Oh, how wrong I was. "I'm serious. Would you run over my hands with your car?" She said. "I can't do that, why would I do that?" "Because I want you to." She kind of glared at me as if to say, this doesn't go any further until you do as I say. As I'd done all night with great success I tried to make a joke and countered with, "Couldn't we start off smaller, like with a small piece of furniture first and gradually build up to maybe sitting on your hands?" For the first time all night my joke missed the mark, and at that point she reminded me that she was holding my manhood in her hand by squeezing it 'til it hurt. Bad.

"I like pain. It's kind of a big part of my sex life." My life flashed before my eyes. I instantly found religion and began asking God to get me and my wiener out of this. "Look, I'm sorry, but for me this is supposed to feel good, pain simply doesn't fit into this experience for me." "Have you ever even tried?!" "Well, no...but I'm pretty sure I don't..." "You have no idea, just fucking give it a try and I guarantee you'll like it." With that, she pinched the skin of sack really hard with her nails. It hurt like a motherfucker. I yelped in pain, withdrew and kind of shoved her off of me simultaneously. She looked at me with utter disgust, then she kicked me with her boot. "Fuck this. Fuck YOU, fuckin' pussy!", she yelled as she adjusted her clothes and got out of the car. She gave me the finger as she stormed off, pulling her dress down which had been hiked up above her waist.

I just sat there dumbfounded. I checked my nuts to see if she'd cut me. Not seeing any blood or other damage I stuffed my manhood back into my pants, put the keys into the ignition and started the car. I watched her as she walked away, unsure exactly what to do. I thought briefly about apologizing and at least walking her to her car, but I just sat there dazed as she turned the corner and was gone for good.