An anniversary

It’s an anniversary. 24 years ago tonight I met Bill. It’s been a fun ride and it keeps going on and on which is fine by me and fine with Bill. It’s a relationship and it’s work. 24 years later it’s a little bit easier but with time comes age and with age comes worry. Health matters basically.

Nothing bad is happening but in the back of my mind, when Bill is here and not saying anything I panic and need to ask him to respond or make some sort of sound. He does just that, chuckling at my morbid paranoia.

I told Bill the story of my Mother on Mother’s Day in 1991 when sitting in her chair doing the New York Times Sunday crossword, she left, just like that. Who knows what my father was talking about when she passed but I guess when he looked over and saw she had passed away he was shocked.

Bill is a great talker and when he suddenly goes quiet I need to check and he understands. Bill and I were members of a Gay Yahoo Group, for Men who Like Men in Suits. That’s where I was 24 years ago.

I was into wearing suits as fetishwear and found a group of other men who were into it as well. I had gone to a few of these parties and always went home dejected. My sister was in town and drove me to the Path train from my apartment in Weehawken.

The party was on Ann Street and I took the elevator to the penthouse. I was determined to have a good time this time and availed myself of the beverages, which I think that night was mainly wine. That meant a mellow night.

At some point I was outside on a terrace, smoking a cigar, and from my memory, I was surrounded by suited men laughing at my bon mots when through the crowd I saw this brown-eyed handsome man in a mustard colored suit.

He certainly stood out in a sea of dark colored suits but I didn’t mind. A connection was made and he seemed to feel the same way. I saw Bill sitting in a chair while Erykah Badu was playing. Bill was vibing on the music and I walked up to him, asking ‘Do you dig Badu?’.

The wine emboldened me enough to make some physical moves on Bill in front of everybody else. A public display of affection or in this case, lust, is not my usual modus operandi. We wound up leaving together, both of us on the same train going uptown.

He was getting off at Union Square and I was continuing on. Before we parted I told him, ‘I’m feelin’ you kid’. We exchanged numbers and threw our chances into the air. Apparently, Bill had seen a photo of me in the Yahoo group page and it turned out I was just his type.

Little did he know what was coming on down the line. I sure didn’t, and here we are 24 years later!

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