Okay, one more story about the building I live in, then we can move on. Well, maybe. How about one last historic story before we move into the modern era.
Picture it, Cheesman Park 1990. I was living in tiny attic space in a victorian on Downing St. My best friend lived on the other side of the park so anytime we wanted to hangout one of us would trek across the green expanse of lawn. This means I would have to traverse a main street leading in and out of the park. The same building I live in now was on this path. Balconies line the front of the building overlooking the street. As I crossed in front of this building I noticed a guy leaning on a balcony railing. I noticed him for two reasons, I had been introduced to the art of Tom of Finland, and this guy was a spiting image to one to one of the gentleman in this art, and two; he was pointing at me and hollering for me to come closer. So I did. He kindly requested that I go to the front door and buzz his apartment. Walking to his door there would be no way of knowing that 1,000 years in the future I would live there. Well directly upstairs. He met me at this apartment door.
He was was very old in my young eyes. But we was probably forty, meaning fifteen years younger than my current age. I would later learn that he would be classified as a levi leather dom. Sooooo, let’s skip the details, you know what happened. We can say he created and formed my lifelong views, tastes, kinks, needs, fantasies, and standards in one amazing afternoon I still think about often. With one man’s tongue and smelly underwear my life began.
They say you always remember your first. And why he wasn’t my first boy. He was my first man. I carry his torch and try to live in his footsteps.
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