I know the world is full of
gay people (using the currently popular definition of the term), and they dress
and behave in many different ways. If,
however, the person who chose this topic was thinking of the stereotypical gay
guy with distinctive apparel or mannerisms who often draws attention to
himself, I really have not hung around very many gays like that. If I use that frame of reference, however,
then I would have to think of young Peter whom I met in college.
Peter did, in fact, draw
attention to himself; but he seemed to be able to do it in a way that
fascinated people, never repelled them.
I suppose that he had the advantage of being remarkably good looking, as
well as intelligent and charismatic.
I observed people's body-language that supported this
fact. Sometimes, I'd see straight guys
encounter a gay guy and then immediately draw away in distaste; whereas, with
Peter, they involuntarily would lean forward, eyes wide-open, fascinated. Other gays on campus did not fare so well as
he did. I know of at least one gay who
was beaten up, but even the homophobes just stared at Peter, and that is no
exaggeration. Straight guys seemed to be
far too taken with Peter to ever consider being unkind to him.
Peter's heritage was an
unlikely pairing of Polish and Sicilian ancestry. He had the fine, classic facial features of a
Polish aristocrat, and I could imagine that his mother resembled Tadzio's
mother in the film “Death in Venice.”
He also flaunted a mane of golden locks, much like Tadzio's. His skin was a smooth, honey-tan. Apparently, the only obvious inheritance from
his Sicilian father was the ability to tan without burning.
Peter obviously was very
aware of his good looks and their effect upon people. He enjoyed being noticed. He did confide in me, however, one concern
about his physical self. His body appeared
to be rather soft and smooth, even slightly androgynous; and he wondered if he
innately was less masculine than most college-age guys.
Peter chose clothes that
straight guys would be embarrassed to wear.
Between Peter's physical appearance, his cute clothes, and his confident
way of talking and walking, he never failed to draw attention.
Peter had a large group of
gay friends, plus an endless string of guys persistently trying to get Peter
into bed, and a series of trailing hangers-on that people unkindly referred to
as “fag-hags.” It was nothing to see
Peter cheerfully making his way somewhere, trailed by several enamored
acquaintances, much like moths to a flame.
Peter was an unabashed
flirt. He knew when people were staring at him.
If he was in a teasing mood, he could embarrass his admirers by
sensuously displaying himself. He might smile at them and not leave until the
observers turned red with embarrassment.
From what Peter told me, I
think that he enjoyed flirting with straight guys. He once answered an ad to share expenses with
two straight guys in a van going to Florida for spring break. When they drove
up to Peter's house, he appeared wearing tiny, baby-blue shorts and a little
pink sweater. And, when he came
flouncing down the front steps to the van, his gay house-mate called out, “Have
a good time, and don’t get any nice boys into trouble!” The two guys' jaws dropped. Apparently, the straight guys overcame their
initial surprise, for by the time they pulled over into a rest stop for the
night, Peter ended up being, as he later described it, “the meat in the
sandwich.” Once Peter arrived in Florida,
he donned a diaphanous caftan, strutted upon the beach, and immediately found
housing and entertainment during his stay because he was picked up by a member
of one of America's most wealthy and prominent families. I have chosen not to mention the name. Then he had the ride home with the two
straight guys to enjoy.
No one could mistake Peter
as being anything other than gay, but he had no interest in drag. Some of his friends; however, thought that he
was too pretty not to try it, at least on one occasion. They decided to dress Peter up for a big
party that would have lots of straight guys there with their dates. At first, he resisted, but eventually he
agreed to do it. As it turned out, his
appearance was so stunning that a lot of the guys abandoned their dates, went
over to Peter, and were trying to chat him up. Their abandoned dates were
furious. Peter was so convincing that they never discovered that he was a guy
in drag. He could be flamboyant, but he did
not care for drag. He never did that again.
On a few occasions, I paled
around with Peter, but we never did anything particularly gay or
titillating. We took a hike around the
state park, went to see the film “Death in Venice” together, and sometimes just
hung out talking. Even though I admired
his good looks, I never asked to go to bed with Peter. I liked him just for who he was. He wondered why I had not asked. I replied that, apparently, everyone else
continually asked him, and my asking him simply would place my friendship on
their same level. My friendship could be
misinterpreted, implying that having sex was all that I really was interested
in. That impressed him, for when he
graduated and left college, he gave me some gifts including three photos of
himself. The color one is included with
this story. I have one very large,
glass-framed composite-portrait in silver that was part of his final
commercial-art portfolio. He wrote on
the back of the picture, “Love ya always, Peter.”
The last time that I talked
with Peter, he expressed, for the first time that I observed, some loss of
confidence. Here he had graduated and
was going out into the real world. He
was afraid of how people would treat him, his being so obviously gay. He imagined that he might have to limit
himself to living on the East Coast or West Coast where there might be a
greater percentage of tolerant people. I
hope that he chose well.
I often have wondered what
became of Peter. Out of curiosity, I did
a couple of searches on the web. All
that I found were listings for several people with the same name, but none
appeared to be “The Peter.” Perhaps it
is it is just as well that I do not have a current photo of him. We all have aged, and even he was not
immortal. I'll just remember him as he
was, the golden, cheerful, charismatic Peter.
And just maybe, he might discover our blog and read this story.
© 04 April 2014
About the Author
I have had a life-long fascination with people
and their life stories. I also realize
that, although my own life has not brought me particular fame or fortune, I too
have had some noteworthy experiences and, at times, unusual ones. Since I joined this Story Time group, I have
derived pleasure and satisfaction participating in the group. I do put some thought and effort into my
stories, and I hope that you find them interesting.
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