When I first moved down to Atlanta I used to stay next to the Fox theater in a place called Scandinavian now called 710 Peachtree St. A high rise apartment building with over priced apts. The studio I was renting was about 700 a month and the size of a walk in closet. But I was paying for location. The problem is the location really sucked, traffic jams at least twice a day made getting in an out an adventure all the clubs were located down the street, hookers both male, female and a combination of both roamed the street openly. But as a young guy from a big city it no big deal.
For what ever reason this apartment building had a very large amount of black gay men staying there.
Now mind you my only encounter with gays were in Atlanta, for what ever reason they did not exist in my world in New York, I new of them but never knowingly met one. Well upon my arrival I discovered that Atlanta is a sort of black version San Fransisco. I was hit on by game men for at least once a month for the first year I lived down here. It got to the point that I thought I was giving some inadvertent signal or something. But I was always a tolerant person so I took it in stride. A firm but polite no always settled things. And I met some cool brother that were openly gay that I would call my friends.
One day though things got a little to personal for comfort with my experience with gay men in Atlanta.
After talking my way out early of work so I can go home and relax I get to the Scandinavian anticpating a hot shower a stiff drink and a quiet night. Me an a little old East Indian lady got on the elevator at the same time, were three men were already on. carrying pillows. One was covered under a white sheet exposing nothing but his face. By the look of the other two they seemed to fit the stereotypical image of gay men, permed hair hands on hips whatever.
Both me an the Indian lady are facing the door waiting for our floor when one of the men said "Yall our nasty" to which the one under sheet said in a very feminine voice "this is the Scandinavian you have to live up to the reputation".
At that point I looked down and realized that instead of two pair of feet under the sheet there was four. Instead of the guy bopping to some beat I thought he had going through his head, some fella was going through him on the back side of that sheet!
It was like some one threw a bucket of ice water on me I was wide awake. I looked at the fella's friends and they seeing my reaction stared back at me intently. That elevator got real small all of a sudden.
I did the only thing I could think of, turned around and looked front.
WTF you say?
Well at the time I was in shock and did not know what to do. Who the hell steps on elevator expecting to see grow men having sex on it!! I was so stunned that I rode the elevator with the love birds carrying on behind me, instead of getting off at the next floor!
Than all of a sudden I got angry, but not with them! Oh no, not them, I was angry with little East Indian lady. She never budged never said a word never looked back just kept her eyes on the door with this smug smirk on her face.
I'm thinking:
What the FUCK are you smiling about?
You think this shit is funny?
What, is it me?
You laughing at me?
You getting a kick out of my discomfort?
Is my confusion amusing the hell out of you?!
Tell them to stop!!
Turn around and say something!!!
What you think I am Gay TOO?!?!?!
Who the hell do you think you are?!!
STOP FUCKING SMILING!!!
STOP THAT SHIT NOW!!!!!
That is what is running through my head.
Not a word comes out my mouth.
Mean while ol buddy under the sheet is not missing a beat or stroke, while the catcher has a smile in his face, the other two keep staring at me and the fucking Indian lady is on her own planet and I want to go there too!
Than at last THE FUCKIN SLOWEST ELEVATOR ON PLANET EARTH finally hits a floor and the the love fest and entourage go flying off like some one cut the light on in a room full of roaches and ol buddy under the sheet still has not missed a beat. A real trooper that guy was.
Now I am left alone with my anger and shame and that damn Indian lady.
The elevator stop and she gets off and says, "Have a nice day".
I'm thinking
Hold up, did she just say something?
Did she just tell me to have a nice day?!
Is she trying to be cute?!!
Is that it?
You got your laugh for today?!!!
YOU BITCH!!!!!!!
What I say is "you to".
My floor, (of course the last one), comes up I get off go to my little studio take a hot shower pour my self a stiff drink chased with beer and laid down in front of the idiot box. I am tired, and the only thing I can think of is that freakin East Indian Lady.
