When I was in my early 20’s, I was 25 pounds lighter, and I had hair on the top of my head. I was good-looking in an ordinary sort of way. I met a 22 year old man let us call him JW. JW found me appealing, for a while. JW was a model for a sports magazine. He was beyond beautiful. His feet, his toes, his hands, his ears, the shoulders, even his elbows were exquisite. He used to curl his eyelashes. In other words, though I had hot torrid sex with JW, I did not really enjoy it because, when I visited him, blood would rush to my face and I would be completely overwhelmed. He was a natural phenomenon. He was too hot to handle. He was not my peer.
After two months, he told me he was going to marry a young woman from Connecticut, become a computer technician for IBM. He did disappear.
About 18 years later, I was working as a caseworker for the New York City Human Resources Administration. My job was to interview clients with possible mental problems, especially those who were not paying their rent or other bills, to determine if an (expensive) psychiatrist should visit and evaluate him or her. After having interviewed the client/patient, if the psychiatrist recommended that the client was mentally unable to handle his or her money, HRA would go to court and have the client’s benefit checks transferred to HRA that would then pay the client’s bills, as legally authorized.
By way of coincidence, I was assigned a client, JW. I actually interviewed the red hot lover of my youth, now a plump but still good-looking middle-aged man. Of course, the Greek god was gone. For a few seconds, I said to myself, wow, now he is my peer, maybe we could pick up where we left off.
As caseworker, I had a list of about 20 questions I would pose to the client. When I did so with JW, I realized that he could not remember what he had said 5 minutes previously. His medical history indicated he suffered from severe short-term memory loss due to alcohol abuse (vodka). I gave up the idea of asking about his past life in Connecticut, etc. I do not know for a fact, but I presume that eventually a psychiatrist evaluated him as mentally incompetent and that NYC HRA is paying his bills.
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20 May 2013
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About the Author
I was born in 1944, I lived most of my life in New York City, Queens County. I still commute there. I worked for many years as a Caseworker for New York City Human Resources Administration, dealing with mentally impaired clients, then as a social work Supervisor dealing with homeless PWA's. I have an apartment in Wheat Ridge, CO. I retired in 2002. I have a few interesting stories to tell. My boyfriend Kevin lives in New York City. I graduated Queens College, CUNY, in 1967.
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