Suburbia

Yesterday I was dreaming of whales in the Thames. Today I learned it has died.

Yesterday I drove out to the suburbs to have sex. I rarely drive out of the center of the city--when I do I am entranced by the long lines of red tail lights, the endless sound walls, the outposts of fast food boxes blazing at the onramps.

I had been talking to this 18 year old on Manhunt and he thought I was sexy--this is the high school kid from an earlier post. He lives in a shitty townhome with his dad; they have a giant big screen t.v. and little else of value, rummage sale purchases, mis-matched furniture. One of dad's friends, a recently divorced dude, lives in the basement. The guy is a senior and his dad teaches high school hockey and he was out at a game so we had a few hours.

When I met him I realized he only had a few more years of cuteness in him. He had reddish hair and blond eyebrows that became invisible in certain light and at particular angles. He had a cute round face, taut, but as soon as the slack starts showing he'll be done for. We started fooling around. He was a bit chubby but underneath it was hard muscle and a lot of it.

After we fucked we laid around and he put his hand in my chest hair and told me more about himself. Since the age of fifteen he's been dating older men--much older men. At fifteen he had a 'boyfriend' who was in his late 30s. I think he's been treated badly and it sounds like he's been put at risk of HIV infection by some unsavory characters who took advantage of an impressionable teenager.

We drove to a Burger King and I had dinner while he talked--editor of the school newspaper, has an after school job at Abercrombie & Fitch, likes shopping and coffee shops. He was utterly banal, in other words, you might dismiss him as another homogenized suburban white male in America.

These two spheres--I was captivated by their convergence in this one boy. He wore a jean jacket and A&F jeans and styled his hair and his dad was a hockey coach who probably would have kicked my ass to find me in bed with his son and his secret life is the meaningful search for an older man, a mass of chest hair to dive his hands into.

I found the whole thing quite radical. A much more laudable quest he's on then, say, an out gay man like myself in the safety of the liberal center city.