The Art of Being Gay - 7. Ballet of the Dolls

Ballet of the Dolls

Roy listened to the pop station hold music as he waited for Tyrell to pick up. He was slightly annoyed at Peterson’s revelation about keeping an eye on him. First his mother was watching him, now Tyrell? What was up with that? He was a grown man, but it seemed everyone was monitoring him as though he was a child. It pissed him off.

“Roy Toy!” Tyrell’s singsong voice greeted him. “How’s tricks, girlfriend?”

“Same old, same old,” Roy said smiling. Hearing his old friend’s voice melted his frustration. Like with his mother, he couldn’t stay mad for long. The fond memories and feelings were too powerful to ignore.

“I’m busy planning the wedding of the century. Hugo may be a big macho doofus, but since we started thinking about the ceremony and reception, he’s become a regular bridezilla. Everything has to be just so. Do you know he started a Pinterest account and is collecting table centerpiece photos? I swear this thing will cost us a fortune.” Tyrell’s playful banter was soothing.

“It’s both your special day. Don’t skimp because it’s a little expensive,” Roy laughed. “You better have an open bar.”

“I’m bringing my own bar and bartender,” Tyrell chuckled. “I’ll slip you a few cocktails.”

“Sounds good. So, have you two set a date?” Roy asked.

“Yeah, we’re doing it in January with a winter wonderland theme. I was worried about the weather but Hugo has his heart set on using white everything. I’m surprised he didn’t go for the Valentine motif and red hearts all over the place.” Tyrell said. “We’re sending out ‘save the date’ announcements next week. Should I include a plus one on yours?”

Roy pulled the phone from his ear in shock. He shook his head and said, “Why would I need a plus one?”

“I thought a certain hunky warehouse worker had your attention. His name is Chad, right?” Tyrell snickered.

“We’re just friends. Have you been talking to Peterson or something?” Roy asked.

“No. My brother said you were mooning over him. I spoke with Madeline last week. She called him your husband,” Tyrell teased.

Roy’s annoyance was back in full force. “Why is everyone so concerned about my non-relationship with Chad? I’m helping him figure out things. That’s all. Did you really tell Peterson to keep an eye on me?”

Tyrell was silent for a minute after Roy’s outburst. The time stretched out as the two friends felt a bubble of discomfort grow between them. “I never told Peterson to spy on you, Roy. I jokingly told him you were going through a mid-life crisis and I was concerned about you. That’s all.”

Roy could hear the anger in Tyrell’s voice. It was ice cold and cutting him to the quick. “Tyrell, you know me. I’m sensitive about my love life or lack of one. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tyrell gushed. “I understand. Until I met Hugo, I was like you. Do you remember all those beautiful losers I dated before I met my sweet babu? I never would have given Hugo a second look until I realized I wanted something much more than a pretty face and rocking body.”

“You think I’m shallow,” Roy said quietly.

“No. I think we used to have the same expectations. My priorities changed. Yours haven’t.”

Roy considered his next comment carefully. “I think my ideas about love have changed too. My little jaunt into the bar scene has altered my perspective. My idea of a relationship is different now.”

“Good,” Tyrell said. “It’s about time you considered what a real relationship means. I always thought you settled for a pretty face when you deserve much better than that.”

Roy found himself nodding at his friend’s pronouncement. Tyrell, like his mother, had watched him struggle with love. He was beginning to think he’d never actually experienced true romance. So far what he’d had in relationships was more like prolonged infatuation and lust, not bonding. “You know, Ty, put me down for a plus one. I may not have a boyfriend, but I might have a good friend to bring to the wedding. It would be more fun going with Chad as a buddy than any flavor of the month.”

“I knew it. You’re going for it, aren’t you?” Tyrell laughed. “Be careful corporate doesn’t find out.”

“I’m not going to seduce Chad. I like spending time with him.” Roy said as casually as he could.

“Okay. Roy Toy, you sound like you’re trying something altogether new. I like to hear that.”

“It can’t hurt,” Roy muttered.

“Hmmm,” Tyrell responded. “We’ll see.”

“Bye, bitch,” Roy chuckled.

“Bye, tramp,” Tyrell laughed.

**************

“Are you ready for another lesson?” Roy asked Chad as he turned off the forklift.

“Sure. What’s next? We did the opera. I can’t wait to see what cultural event you’ll drag me to next.” Chad snickered.

“I’m taking you to the ballet,” Roy said, thrusting his nose in the air. “It’s time you learned the science of kinesthesia.”

Chad stopped laughing. “What is ken-ass-these-ya? Sounds weird.”

“It’s the study of how a body moves. It usually expresses itself in something like dance or sports. You’re going to learn how to move,” Roy said.

“I played football in high school. I know how the body works,” Chad said, looking concerned.

“That’s only part of it. Trust me, it’ll be a blast,” Roy said.

“What will be a blast?” they heard behind them. Both men turned and saw Peterson standing there, arms crossed, and smiling at them.

“I’m taking Chad on his next gay lesson,” Roy said.

“Gay lesson?” Peterson asked with a grimace. “What’s that?”

“Roy’s showing me the fine art of being gay. Care to join us?” Chad asked, lifting his eyebrows as if to challenge the man.

At first, Peterson got a strange look on his face. Neither man could read it, especially since his cross eye was peering between them. Then, slowly, his expression began to relax. A smile curled onto the warehouse manager’s face. “I’d love to.”

“You’d love to what?” Chad asked, dumbfounded. “We’re going to do something really gay, you know that right?”

“It doesn’t bother me,” Peterson said with a grin. “I’d love to go with you.”

Roy scowled at him. “I think Chad was teasing you.”

“So, I can’t come with you?” Peterson dared. “I promise not to wig out on you.”

“Wig out?” Chad said in wonder. “I haven’t heard that phrase in twenty years.”

Peterson’s confidence disappeared. It was replaced with a look that usually dogs get after being scolded. “If you don’t want me to go…”

“Naw, come with us. The more the merrier,” Roy said, laughing. “I’d love for you to join us.” The store manager stepped closer and threw his arm around Peterson’s shoulders. The man jumped a little, but stayed where he was. Chad could see he was trying not to flinch from the contact.

“When is this lesson?” Chad asked. As much as his growing dislike of Peterson made him enjoy the man’s discomfort, he could see it was emotionally painful to bear Roy’s hug. Roy pulled away from Peterson and threw up his arms.

“How about Thursday night? We’re all free, right?” he asked.

“I am, though Justin gets here the next day. You did promise no more alcohol, correct?”

“There will be alcohol available, so perhaps you could restrain from drinking all of it,” Roy said, play punching Chad in the arm.

Chad danced out of the way. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Roy chuckled and turned to Peterson. “He danced with drag queens and kissed the bouncer.”

Peterson now looked slightly ill. He nodded and assured them he was going with them.

************

After parking in a ramp on Washington Avenue, Peterson and Chad followed Roy down the street. None of the men said a word as they passed by storefronts offering holistic massages, chai tea drinks, and mortgages. As they neared the corner of Third Avenue and Fourth Street, Chad tapped his boss on the shoulder. “You’re not taking us to a strip club.”

“As a matter of fact, I am,” Roy said.

“How is going to see women strip a gay lesson?” Chad asked. “I’ve watched women strip. It wasn’t that much fun for me when I pretended I was straight.”

“You’ll enjoy this,” Roy said cryptically as they neared the gigantic neon sign that said, ‘Jiggles, A Club for Gentlemen.’

Chad looked back at Peterson who had a scowl on his face. “Have you ever been to a strip club, Peterson?” he asked the warehouse manager.

“Of course,” he barked. His face told a different story. The man looked petrified.

Chad turned back to see Roy had passed the entrance to the club. He disappeared around the corner. Chad trotted to catch up with him. As he rounded the bend, he saw Roy was waving to them. “We’re here!” he shouted. Then, his boss went into a side door.

Chad walked up and saw a sign above the door. It said, ‘Danglers.’ “Well, I’ll be,” Chad said. He walked through the door and into the darkness.

At first, the interior was so gloomy, he couldn’t see much. As his eyes adjusted, he could see Roy over at a counter. Behind the stand was a tall man dressed in a bow tie and suspenders. After a few more seconds, Chad realized the man was shirtless. He was grinning at Roy and looked up as Chad approached.

“Is this the rest of your party?” the man asked Roy.

“We want chairs at the rail,” Roy said pulling out his wallet. “Three seats front and center.”

“That’ll be seventy-five dollars,” the man said with a grin. Roy handed the man a bill and got his change.

“We’ll need some ones,” Roy said.

“Right over there,” the man gestured to a machine. “It gives you ones in increments of twenty.”

“Sounds good,” Roy said. “Come on guys. Let’s get some tip money.”

Chad looked back at Peterson who looked like he’d just swallowed a bucket of fish guts. His eyes were large and shiny even in the murky light of the lobby. His hands were shaking.

“I don’t know about this,” he said coming closer to Chad. “Maybe I should wait in the car.”

“You invited yourself along,” Roy said. “Get some ones and get ready to stuff some guy’s jockstrap.”

Chad put a twenty in the machine and got a little packet of ones. He stepped back and Peterson was still trembling. He dutifully pulled out his wallet and grabbed a bill. The man fed it into the machine and got his dollars. Roy smiled as Peterson looked up.

“Trust me. They don’t bite,” he said. Peterson didn’t look like he believed him.

“Buck up!” Roy said clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s not like you’ve never seen another guy’s butt before, is it?”

“I was in track in high school,” Peterson stuttered. “So, no, this isn’t my first time seeing a guy’s rear end.”

“Good.” Roy waved for them to follow. The guy from behind the counter was waiting for them at the curtained doorway. Chad saw the suspenders were holding up a particularly short and tight pair of shorts. There wasn’t much hidden beneath the fabric. His cock and balls were displayed rather than concealed. When the man turned, Chad could see the shorts rode up into his ass crack. The two mounds of his buttocks undulated, taunting him. A quick glance at Peterson showed the man was staring, though he averted his eyes when he saw Chad watching him.

The three men were seated at the end of the apron of the stage. Two shiny brass poles were affixed on each side with a dark red curtain edged with gold around the edges.

“Comfy?” Roy asked them. Chad, sitting the middle, nodded. Peterson just scowled a little and ducked his head.

“What can I get you gentlemen from the bar?” a voice asked them. Chad turned and saw a boy, well, a very young man dressed in a sequined blue vest and matching posing strap standing there holding a tray. He shifted from side to side, his package bouncing to the soft disco music that was tinkling around them.

“I’ll take a gin and tonic,” Roy said. “What’re you having?”

“I’ll take a beer, a light one if you got it,” Chad said nervously. The waiter was oozing sexuality. He was chewing on gum and leering at them.

“A water,” Peterson said, his voice wavering.

“Water’s twelve bucks, just like the drinks. That doesn’t include tips,” the waiter said, grinning lasciviously at them. He leaned over Peterson and whispered. “You’re a real stud I bet.”

Peterson sputtered out some nonsense words in response. He finally got a handle on his words and spit out, “I’ll have a whiskey sour.”

“A man after my own heart,” the waiter said sliding his hand along Peterson’s jawline. “What a cutie!” he squealed.

Roy laughed as Peterson’s mouth dropped open. “You invited yourself.”

“I did,” Peterson said. The man looked frazzled. Chad wasn’t feeling too courageous right then, either. The waiter didn’t look a day over eighteen.

“What do you think so far?” Roy asked, elbowing Chad.

“I think it’s a bit much,” Chad said honestly.

“Good. You’ll see how men use their bodies to communicate. That’s why we’re here.” Roy grinned mischievously.

“They seem to be communicating only one thing so far,” Chad said. “It’s not exactly subtle.”

“Watch and learn, grasshopper,” Roy said patting Chad’s hand. “It will get more interesting in a few moments when the dancers come on stage.”

The three men sat in silence looking at the empty stage for the next few minutes. The waiter returned and began setting their drinks in front of them.

“I’ll get this round,” Chad said pulling out his wallet.

“It’s a little spendy,” Roy said. “Are you sure?”

Chad snorted and looked at the waiter. He was standing close to Peterson, openly checking him out. Peterson looked like an edgy steer ready to jump the fence and bolt.

“How much?” Chad asked.

“Twenty-four dollars,” the waiter said, putting a hand on Peterson’s shoulder. “I’m buying this one his first one. I like them skittish and shaky. That means they’re dynamite in the sack.”

Chad pulled out a ten and a twenty. “Keep the change,” he said.

The waiter smiled widely. “Thanks. I’ll be back, sweet cheeks.” He caressed a wincing Peterson’s cheek and then scurried over to a table that was being seated. There were several women milling around and by the high pitched sounds they were making, they were excited to be there.

“Ladies and not so Gentlemen,” the speaker blasted out. “Please put your hands together for our opening number at Danglers. Here are Woody and Buzz, our stars in a number we like to call ‘Boy Story.’

The curtain opened and from each side, a man came running in. From the left was a guy dressed in a cowboy hat, a white and black spotted vest, and blue chaps. He had a holster around his waist complete with a gun.

From the right side, a man emerged with a clear helmet and a lime green collar. He had a short metallic gray shirt and silver leggings. Sure enough, they had the characters from the Disney movie ready to entertain them.

Chad peeked at Roy’s beaming face. He looked so thrilled. Chad’s anxiety melted at the sight of his boss clapping loudly and whistling at the dancers. He looked over at Peterson. Instead of being uncomfortable and fidgety, the man appeared enthralled.

Chad looked back and the two dancers were bumping hips and swinging arms to the music piped from overhead. It was a song about being just like animals or something. Their hips thrust and swiveled as they bounced around the stage. It was impossible to ignore their enthusiasm. It was infectious and Roy was on his feet clapping along with them.

The other patrons were also clapping and the women seated behind them were standing and hooting up a storm. Chad found he was clapping to the beat along with everyone else. He noticed Peterson wasn’t clapping, but his attention was riveted to the two men dressed as dolls and dancing with all their might.

When the song ended, another started. In one fluid motion, Buzz and Woody ripped off their pants. Buzz moved toward a couple of guys to the left, and Woody headed straight for the three of them. Chad took a drink for courage. Roy was already standing and had a few ones he was waving at the dancer. Woody hooked his thumbs under his posing strap and in four exaggerated thrusts; he positioned his crotch right at Roy’s eye level.

Chad didn’t know if he was more excited or scared.

“Get your money out boys and show Woody some appreciation!” Roy shouted above the music. He was so busy stuffing ones into the man’s outfit; he didn’t even look over at the other two. Chad pulled out a few ones and nervously waited for the dancer to approach. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Peterson was holding a fist full of money and staring at the man on stage.

Chad watched as Woody did a side step and pushed his crotch out at him. With a shaking hand, he tucked a bill under the dancer’s side strap. Woody touched his hat in thanks and shook his package at him. Chad quickly stuffed a few more ones into the front, feeling the moist, warm skin beneath his fingers. Woody winked at him and hopped towards Peterson.

The dancer crouched down and presented his chest to the bespectacled warehouse manager. Chad smiled as Peterson reached out to slide a bill into the man’s pouch when he heard the dancer speak.

“Mr. Peterson?” he asked. At first, Peterson’s face didn’t change. The look of rapture was frozen on it. Then, his cheeks turned white. Peterson dropped the money from his hand. A terrified expression crossed his face.

“Paul?” he croaked. “Oh, my God!” he swore. Peterson turned and ran out past the cheering women. Roy grabbed Chad’s arm and both men looked at the dancer whose own face had turned red.

“Do you know him?” Roy asked.

The dancer nodded once, and then started to stand. “He was my Sunday school teacher.”

Roy and Chad looked at each other in surprise. Buzz grabbed Woody and as the music ended, they waved and exited the stage.

“That’s embarrassing,” Roy said as the two men sat back down. “Do you think I should go after him?”

“He wanted to come,” Chad said. “Let him get some air and settle down. I’m sure the dancer is as nervous as Peterson is.”

“Poor guy,” Roy said, taking a drink. Two more dancers came out and they watched and cheered, but not quite as enthusiastically.

After the second act, the waiter returned still gnawing on his wad of gum. “What happened to cutie pie?” he asked pointing to Peterson’s chair.

“He forgot something at home,” Roy said. “I’ll have another.”

“Me too,” Chad said, waving his bottle at him. The waiter smiled and disappeared behind the wall of women who had gathered behind them.

“I hope he’s okay,” Roy said. “Maybe I should have followed him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Chad said. “This is our night, my lesson. I’m not letting Peterson ruin it for me.”

“You’re right,” Roy said, grinning. “I wonder what’s next.”

It didn’t take long. After getting fresh drinks, the light dimmed even more and the curtain opened with a spotlight shining on the stage. There was a screen painting of a bar, a country and western one, with old fashioned lights and spittoons depicted on it. Roy and Chad settled back as the music started. Chad grabbed Roy’s arm. “It’s Garth Brooks.”

[Listen to ‘The Dance’ while reading this passage.]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7FRbeaXjvk

It was the haunting prelude to his song, ‘The Dance.’ Chad felt a smile grow on his lips as Woody, no, Paul, came out in a different western outfit. He wore a different cowboy hat and only a brown leather jock with a short, narrow paneled vest. There were boots on his feet thumping with the slow patter of the song.

Another cowboy came out wearing much of the same outfit, and then a third joined them. Paul meekly approached the second cowboy, his crotch thrusting against the other’s butt. Then they parted. The third cowboy slid next to the second cowboy. Their fronts rubbed up and down as Paul danced alone to the side.

The third cowboy twirled away and towards Paul. Paul spun into his embrace. The lyrics of the song were being played out. It was the dance, from one lover to another, and then Paul returned to the other man. Back and forth, the men joined and parted. Sometimes, one would embrace the pole and look away from the other two.

Chad felt his throat tickle. He looked over to see Roy was weeping silently. Roy turned and smiled. The song’s ending instrumental welled around them. First Paul left the stage, followed by another cowboy. Finally, the last cowboy swung himself around a brass pole and out the side exit.

Roy and Chad both stood and clapped wildly as the three dancers came out. Roy stuffed ones into each of the men’s straps. Chad handed them each a few ones. They bowed and thanked them. The women pressed up from behind and threw money at the men. The dancers touched their cowboy hats and smiled, nodding their thanks.

“It’s getting a little wild in here,” Roy said after the men left the stage. “Should we find Peterson and get out of here?”

“Yeah. I’m ready,” Chad said. They grabbed their coats and as they started making their way through the crowd, a hand stopped Chad.

“Are you guys leaving already?” It was Paul, Peterson’s student.

“Yeah. We need to find our friend,” Roy said.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have broken character and embarrassed him like that,” Paul said. “Tell him I’m sorry and I promise not to tell Mrs. Peterson. Well, I won’t if he promises not to tell my folks. They don’t know I work here.”

Chad watched as the young man’s face got red with the revelation.

“It’ll be fine,” Chad said. “Don’t worry.”

Paul turned and started running for the steps up to the stage. “Say, who’s Mrs. Peterson?” Roy called after him. Paul never paused as he jumped through the red curtain.

Chad shrugged when Roy looked at him in shock. “I had no idea he was married.”

“Neither did I,” Roy said. “Let’s go find him and head home.”

“Okay,” Chad agreed and they left the building.