Meat Me in New Jersey
I read with great interest your article “How Much Is That Dignity in the Window” (Mark Durane, Flavor of the Week, Nov. 11-17). Anonymous sexual pursuit seems to be all too many gay men’s drug of choice. This is why so few of us are truly content. We smile at everyone but cry inside.
This activity has caused our group untold miseries. I compare it to the Irish and their booze. It’s so deeply engrained in our subculture. Positive addictions towards academic/intellectual/ financial success, found in Judaic, Indian, and Oriental cultures where failure isn’t even an option might do us well, to a certain extent.
As a native Manhattanite from West 11th Street, I grew up around the Christopher Street piers, before the rollerbladers, sod and picnic tables were implanted as part of the renovated extensions. Rats scurried all over the place.The collapsing buildings hosted circle jerks, sleeping places for the homeless, and illicit activities galore.
After they were demolished, the piers remained. So did the area that was a legitimate outdoor parking lot by day and a gay cruising area by night. After getting a car, I was a regular, staying there till the sun rose usually.
A hot Saudi Arabian whom I’d gotten off with used to sit in his $70,000 BMW stark naked. At the time, I was infatuated with Puerto Rican and Dominican men, so the area was like a candy shop. I’d pull up to someone and flash my nine incher, and usually shoot some wild loads.
Then, Guiliani closed down the parking areas and it was up to the Zerega Industrial area in the Castle Hill section of the Bronx. A wealthy and somewhat naive father and mother financed all of this debauchery. Now that they and I are broke, gallivanting around is no longer an option, especially up to the Zerega Industrial area from Bayonne, where I now live.
Anyhow, I haven’t engaged in anonymous sex in 2 1/2 years and don’t miss it much.
It’s a degrading false hope, like liposuction, if you would, for someone who’s trying to take a bogus, quick and easy path toward spiritual and/or physical destruction.
The powerfulness of youth in the gay culture is oh so temporary indeed. Furthermore, the gay “scene” (ie. Bars, clubs, activism, the Center, chat lines) has left me physically and psychologically drained. Chelsea and South Beach leave me unsettled.The Bowery and Chinatown turn me on.
Conclusively, considering the size of my Sicilian-American cock, this abstinence seems like no easy feat, but it came quite naturally when I realized that I had a problem with life, due to my hatred of any changes and/or routines.
Addictions, unless they were abstained from or strictly regulated, no matter, what made everything feel better for a short amount of time until the after-effects rolled in like a hurricane. AIDS threats, STV threats, degradation, intensified feelings of loneliness and worthlessness.
The key was to be the objective realist as opposed to the romantic-intellectualist no matter what.
Should you wish to contact me, feel free to do so via my email address on the first page of this note.
Pete A. deMatteo, Bayonne, NJ (photo enclosed)