I've gotten a lot more comfortable with the reality that being on tour and being around a bunch of (mostly-)straight men in general entails a lot of stress but also a lot of beautiful things, accidentally/incidentally sexy things, etc. One would think I'd've gotten over this a long time ago, but I just chose the 'go-slightly-out-of-my-body' route instead. I didn't trust myself. I was too afraid of myself, I believed (somewhat unconsciously) so much bullshit about being gay; feeling any kind of sensual pleasure from things men were doing would make me feel like some barely-restrained monster[13]; it made me want to hurt myself and I often would. In more recent years, especially before everything with and after Rick, I gradually accustomed myself to being around groups/crowds of gay men and that's helped very much-- in that case, too, if I did look obviously into anybody it wouldn't hurt me (rejection stings, but getting the shit beat out of you stings quite a bit more). Being around people like me in general unsurprisingly, in hindsight, reduced my feelings of freakishness quite a bit. They resurged some after Rick died-- but never anything as bad as the self-flagellation I put myself thru during college. Poor Luis!
Being around a bunch of presumed straight guys again, though... I'm still very much getting used to it in a lot of ways, but I'm not afraid around anybody in the band anymore, at least. And I'm able to catch quick glimpses of lovely moments, reminders of things I just generally love about men-- their physicality/physical camaraderie, the wonderful thrill of both getting away with something but also of belonging when I'm the recipient of that physical camaraderie (like Greg's ass-pats before shows, the way Nate'll clap a hand on my shoulder and pull me in close at parties, the silly little shoving matches we all get into, towel slapping shenanigans in the showers...). That nice lazy legs-spread cock-forward way they like sitting. How amazing Nate and (unfortunately) Al's arms look while they play, the silly showoffish O-faces Nate pulls during solos. I can take all of these things and appreciate them and not have it mean anything else beyond the pleasantness of it in the moment. Enjoying it, lazily basking in it. Well, I am almost thirty now (UGH!)-- getting to actually feel like an adult instead of some post-adolescent ghost.
An inventory of my own, because the crew's doing official inventories right now and I'm hanging with them again for the first time in awhile and it's got me in the spirit:
Things I've been called by the other band/crew we're touring with on this last leg: fag/homo/fruit/tranny, twinkle-toes, fairy, "Nate's ugly new girlfriend" (this one actually made me laugh in the moment but pissed Nate off), "bargain-bin Freddie" (we sound TOTALLY different), Cher, Toucan Sam (I think half of this band must've gone to my high school), and... I wasn't exactly *called* this but one of them said my profile reminded them of mad hatter illustrations in an alice in wonderland book and that was frankly the meanest thing any of them said in that it did hurt a little and took me aback, and it was hard for me to keep a poker face about it, but I did somehow, I think, even though I wanted to slap the face off his face. Maybe I'll get my teeth even more fixed after all, G-d.... or not smile with my teeth, at any rate. Anyway.
Things that the other band has done to me/at me: flung sour cream at my hair and clothes (and landed), dangled their wrists/mimed sissy poses at me (multiple times), generally just the equivalent of the class clown tugging a girl's pigtails to try and make her cry. They REALLY think I'm going to cry at some point and so seem intent on making that happen. Which is just annoying. I made the mistake once of rolling my eyes and UGH-ing at them once without thinking and I won't do that again; that got them ALL chortling away.
Things I've done to the other band: stole and "misplaced" the lead singer's chaps. Into a dumpster. Because, well, they're for faggots, so why would he want them anyway? :) What's he showing that ass off for? :) (he doesn't deserve them), pickpocketed lighters[14], "misplaced" gear, fucked with all of their soundboard settings all just enough to sound wrong, flung sour cream back at them. The last thing finally got them to back off a little. Morons. Walt and some of the others say they'll back off even more if I play along better and "lighten up", that I'm making myself a target by being so visibly annoyed with them, and that might be true, but I'm a terrible actor when I'm annoyed. Imagine that!
PS: Remembered talking about lifting worked on Nate for some reason so the next time I was doing my eye makeup and one of them asked "Where'd you get the eyeliner? Your SISTER?" I just said "Nope, I stole it from the drugstore down the block. :)" all chipper, and he paused for a second and I could see the big ol' gears start turning in his meathead brain before he decided, like Nate, that petty theft could make anything cool. G-D straight guys can be idiots. In my favor this time, at least. There are times where I still feel depressed that I can't fit in with them, and times like this actually lessen that depression and make me understand Cryssie's thoughts on them all that much more. Why get accepted as a fellow idiot?
Even MORE of that rock n' roll hedonism for me...! Got crossfaded with the rest of the guys last night, ended up making out with Greg and some girls in a pile in some obscured corner at an afterparty and the girls were so sweet and nice, and they didn't give a damn if me and Greg got a little handsy as long as I was touching them too, and in fact they egged it on a bit. My kind of ladies (tho surely a bad idea to do more than… well, more than this one time, really)! And then, finally, finding the time and the space to be fucked by him (and I'd missed it, him, SO much and it just keeps getting better each time). Christ what a day.
I had the time to pretty myself up a bit before he got back to our room (yes, lucky me, we got a room together this time!!); I cleaned up, threw nicer, cockier underwear on and one of my favorite shirts of his[15], spread myself out on my bed as sexy-but-nonchalantly as I could. He kissed me thru my thong while he took his own clothes off-- well, made out with my dick thru my thong is more accurate (and WOW...)-- and I was suddenly reminded of my college ex Luis, how he did something very similar the first time I had GREAT sex. Thankfully a good memory, one that kickstarted the finale to a perfectly hedonistic night. Smoked more pot, drank more booze, and confessed to him in the middle of it all (and in a less... verbose way than this) that while he seemed to prefer topping, that I was a bit more versatile than most first assumed me to be, and I'd always thought his ass was as nice as his cock, that I'd love fooling around with it as much as he'd let me.
...So DID I get to fuck him? No. If I was sober I would've never asked, and it's hard not to feel embarrassed looking back, but it turned out just fine at the time. He just said something to the effect of thanks-but-no-thanks, and he still let me grab and squeeze and dig my fingers into that ass while he went at mine. Thankful I had no room in my brain for embarrassment then!!
After all was said and done, we fell asleep the way I'd wanted to a couple months ago. Naked, tangled in each other. He set the alarm clock for early, so we wouldn't have a chance of getting woken up by anyone else. I was hung over and exhausted when that alarm woke me up at 5 in the morning, but it was all absolutely worth it. And then performing with him later... ugh, there was just something a little more magical about it all. I swear we clicked even better than we already had; hell, even some of the guys noticed it. Having that, and then Nate's guitar, too, and Rory's calm, consistent backbone... we're so close to perfect. I can tell.
...Al notwithstanding, of course.
[13]Not over anything I wanted to do or anything I WOULD do in reality, but over things I was terrified of doing, things I was convinc"ed I somehow would do despite my wanting otherwise.
[14]And UGH I’d been fantasizing about getting fucked in one of his shirts for almost as long as I’d fantasized about being able to ride him. Needless to say, riding him wearing his shirt (well, barely wearing it at that point; it had slid down around my wrists/etc) was absolutely beyond-wonderful.
[15]And a wallet, once– I put it back in their dressing room but I kept the lighters. Fuck you, they’re two quarters at the general store or free if you’re as good at it and as cute as I am~