Three Ex Presidents and James Franco (9 page)

              I imagined that maybe I could cross this divide in someway. If Eric was not accustomed to getting complements from other men then maybe he'd make an exception in my case. It would be one of those things I did because of the whole gay thing. A peculiar, but necessary character trait. Or maybe I could get away with it because I'm European.

              Some men take offence at another man finding him attractive. They might even consider themselves liberal, yet they still get a feeling of discomfort. I
t’
s the difference between thoughts and feelings. They can't help it.

              And there lies the key. A man can be in control of himself to the point where he allows himself, forces himself even, to befriend gay men. But when he starts feeling some levels of prejudice he has to stop and think. Does being friends with a gay man mean he has to be able to complement me? Is that part of it? Is this guy checking me out? Am I supposed to be ok with that?

              Because if a good looking man can't be friends with a guy who finds him attractive, it means he can't be friends with any gay guys. And that just won't do in this day and age.

37.
When it comes to anything sexual, guys assume that other guys think like them. Gay or straight, their behaviour is seen as fairly formulaic.

              When we see a guy ingratiating himself to a girl, we don't suspect a budding friendship. I
t’
s clearly an attempt to achieve something more. The girl might be aware of this, but will likely deny all knowledge, and will perhaps be flattered by the attention. So when a gay guy ingratiates himself to another guy, this motive is suspected. Why me? Does he find me attractive?

              Which leads to one of two things. Firstly, the straight guy can get paranoid. The most serious thought going through his head is if there is something about himself which has appealed to the gay guy. Do I act a bit fruity? Have I given out the wrong signals? This line of thinking leads inevitably to friction and the end of any possible friendship.

              The second possible consequence is the more enlightened way of thinking, which can loosely be described as Who Gives a Shit? This tends to be the reaction of the thoroughly sexually confident, who see nothing threatening in the situation. Or the thoroughly scatter-brained, who simply have too many things to worry about to find time to hypothesise on the motives of their friends.

              So, in order for my plan to work, I needed to be sure that Eric fell into the second category. If he was the first category all hope was lost. Tha
t’
s not to say the first category is doomed to homophobia, they can develop into the second category. But this usually required the hardening of age and experience, or enough contact with gay men to make him sufficiently comfortable with them. In short, it required the type of time I did not have.

              The plan could work no matter which section of the second category Eric fell into. The sexual alpha male or the scatter-brain. What they have in common is a lack of concern for the foibles of those around them. One is too confident to find anything threatening, the other too distracted to recognise what is threatening. One could possibly be with a gay man, as sex was no big deal and it would not interfere with his self concept. While the other could do the same because in the general scheme of his life it wouldn't even make the top twenty of important events.

              I suppose its like saying that if you have experienced waking up in a pile of your own sick and urine, naked, in a place you don't recognise, with no money, the idea of being with one of your gay friends, no matter how straight you happen to be, seems like it could have been a better option for the night before. While, on the direct opposite side of the coin, if you are in constant control of yourself and your actions, with little or no doubt of your own feelings, acting in a different way, by sleeping with another man, won't disturb your equilibrium.

              I found myself explaining all of this to Eric, as we drank beer and chatted, about two months after getting back from the road trip.

38.
"So, effectively what you are saying is you've mapped out a plan of action for getting me into bed?" Eric asked.

              "Precisely," I replied.

              "So you think I fall into the second category who is so confident I don't care? I'm captain, or was captain of the football team. I'm pretty much your standard category one jock. In high school I used to beat up people like you."

              "I don't think you are. Don't get me wrong, I believe you when you say you beat up people like me. But I think you did it because tha
t’
s what you were expected to do. I don't think you could care less about who was or wasn't. I think you could even be the scatter-brain. What with the shooting, Fiona, college, I don't think you have the time or the energy to invest in having firm opinions on the gays."

              "Why are you telling me this stuff?"

              "You were asking what I was thinking."

              "So is this some sort of complement. You're letting me know I'm attractive and liberal. This is the first step of your masterful seduction?"

              "Yes, absolutely. I told you all the rest so you know that when I do complement you I mean it. I
t’
s not like you can say I have some shady motive."

              "Just because you admit to the motive doesn't mean i
t’
s not shady."

              "What are you going to do? Beat me up. Not talk to me again? Put this down to us having had too many drinks and then pretending we never had this conversation?"

              "Forgetting it is probably the best option." He wasn't irritated, more exacerbated.

              "Well, you've been warned."

              "I have. I suppose there's no point telling you you're wasting your time?"

              "Not really. Even if I am wasting my time, i
t’
s something to think about."

              "Well, good luck. Don't come crying to me when you get your heart broken." He laughed, finding the joke satisfying. He opened another beer and continued to educate me as to the differences between American football and rugby, an education he took very seriously.

39.
"The moral nature was seldom out of keeping with the physical make. Indeed, except as toned by the former, the comeliness and power, always attractive in masculine conjunction, hardly could have drawn the sort of homage the Handsome Sailor in some examples received from his less gifted associates."
-Herman Melville, Billy Budd, Foretopman.

I need to shed some light on how we ended up back in Eric's drinking like old friends.

              The connection was made simply enough. After being forced from the football team, through a gunshot trauma, at the same time as his girlfriend left him, Eric was feeling a little bit subdued. He needed a fresh face, someone to talk to. At the same time I was abandoned by Brandon, for Fiona, and by Jake for his brother of traveling sperm donors.

              A couple of weeks after getting back from Wheatland I met him in the swimming pool. Swimming was the only exercise his body could now take. The injury itself seemed minor on the outside. A little dot on the left thigh, surrounded by healing bruises, it seemed like he had just had a bad fall.

              There was something indescribable about seeing his body, his muscle, his wet hair, his perfect proportions, his black swimming trunks, his stretching, his grimace of pain as he forced his body to keep moving. Something simply indescribable.

              I had considered going over to say hello. Rather, I considered if I could do so without embarrassing myself. I barely knew the man. As I swam through the lanes I wondered how I might approach him. We had nothing in common. Apart from the party, which I could hardly bring up. He could well hate me, I was the friend of Brandon who had stolen his girlfriend. Maybe I could talk about swimming. Eventually I decided that any energy I had would be wasted on actually approaching him and initiating a greeting. I would not have the further energy to conduct a conversation. It was best to leave it. Yet, I had the uncontrollable urge to talk to him. Perhaps to look at him, to perhaps see him smile.

              "Hey Irish." Before I knew what was happening he'd grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around, we were both standing at the side of the pool. "Haven't seen you in months, how's it going?" No bitterness. Just a wonderful grin.

              We showered together and talked. The wonderful self confidence of that act was intoxicating. He was treating me just like anyone else. I don't remember exactly what we talked about. But by the time we were leaving we had arranged to meet later that evening in the Station.

40. 
"At the moment I would prefer not be a little reasonable"
- Bartleby. Herman Melville, Bartleby the Scrivener.

Obviously I'd wanted to sleep with Eric from the moment I first saw him. But tha
t’
s just basic attraction. I see men I want to sleep with every day. I meet them every day. I don't decide to actively pursue it.

              Sex is an absurd thing. The procreative side is less so. But sex for sex's sake, is a complete acronym. The things in life which we go about doing always have an end goal, which has some objective worth or value. When I eat i
t’
s to stay alive, I exercise to stay healthy, I educate myself to defend myself from economic predators, I strive for goals of success so I can live without fear and in comfort.

              But sex, simply sex, seems to have no endgame. No objective benefit. An alien looking at our race could see entertainment, like books, movies and music, as modes of expression which bring the world together, uniting us, making conflict less likely. They also serve to spread ideas, which can be used to protect ourselves from political or social upheaval. Sports exist to idealise fitness to make the world healthier and stronger. The list goes on and on.

              When I think about this I wonder what an alien would think on a Friday night out in Dublin. Sure, there are girls and guys who do want to meet someone special. So there will be sex to see if they are compatible. However, the majority of people the alien would meet would be seeking sex for sex's sake.

              I mean, sex for any purpose other than procreation, is seemingly pointless. An evolutionary biologist could say i
t’
s the natural consequence of the need to reproduce. We are so programmed to do it that we feel the physical urge to do it all the time. It’s nature's way of ensuring we don't lose sight of the grand scheme, making babies. Tha
t’
s fine, and makes sense in it’s own way. But it implicitly accepts that the sex urge comes from a need to reproduce. It’s a hang-up from the times when we didn't know where babies came from, we just swung around trees only being aware that for whatever reason, we wanted to get laid.

              So, it has become pointless. If you doubt me just imagine a world where the urge didn't exist. Couples only had sex to have babies. It seems like real science fiction stuff. I'm sure right now you're imaging an oppressive regime that genetically engineers the sex drive out of its citizens. Get that thought out of your head. I'm just talking about imagining, through some genetic blip, the next generation of humans had no sex urge. An ability to procreate and awareness of the necessity, but no urge to do it for its own sake.

              What would the world be like?

              Truth is, it would probably be a better place. Adolescence would be easier. Rape, incest, paedophilia would all disappear. The tension between the sexes would evaporate. And what would we lose?

              You are probably going to say that sex with someone you love is such a beautiful thing. Life would be unbearable without it. Tha
t’
s why i
t’
s good. Tha
t’
s why its there. And until the impulse is finally bred out of us I'm inclined to agree.