My Winter Coat

My mother and I have always had a pretty good relationship. She and I have, for the most part, been very open and honest with each other. When I began to come out a lot of this changed. For those of you reading this who do not know my mother, she is an avid fundamental Christian that believes that most of our sins are caused by demons that have inhabited our souls. I think this goes without saying, but our religious views diverge quite a bit here. Now I want all of you to know that I love my mother and I understand and forgive her for being who she is. At her core she is a kind and loving woman and she means well, but her beliefs are ingrained and not about to change overnight. That being said she has come a long way and I am confident that she will continue to grow in acceptance of my current romantic and sexual interests.

I also have not made this easy on her. I tend to hold this “Fuck Everyone” view of the world and often do what I want to do as long as I do not foresee it causing harm to another person. I have probably caused my mother some emotional harm with my antics. This blog post will outline one of those instances.

It was December 2012 and one of my good friends, Hillary, was visiting from way out of town. We ate dinner at Houlihan’s, where I came out to her, and we discussed the fact that we were both dating men who were 37. After dinner Hillary didn’t have any plans, so I invited her to go to Feathers, this divey gay bar/club in North Jersey. She of course was delighted. I had my other friend, Hugo, pick us up because we anticipated getting intoxicated. Sure, I had work the next day, but since when did work ever take precedence over intoxication?

I took this belief to heart, that night throwing back more drinks than I could count and getting to a level of obliterated that few people have ever seen. I believe I made out with four people at the bar that night, one of them being the ugliest woman that I have ever seen. She kept complimenting me though and saying how much she just wanted to take me home that I had to throw her a bone or two. I mean all I did was make out with her for a bit, it's not like I aggressively ate her snatch or anything.

At some point it was time to leave Feathers and I can't remember if it was because the bar was closing or we were entirely too drunk at this point to function, but we left. The three of us clambered into Hugo's BMW coupe and headed home. We almost made it to the exit when Hillary began throwing up in Hugo's car. Hugo pulled over and Hillary and I clambered out. Hillary threw up on the side of the road several times and I took a whizz. I then took off my shirt for her to wipe down Hugo's seats with (I still own and wear this shirt). At this point a cop pulled over behind us and I almost shit my pants. I wasn't entirely certain that Hugo was too drunk to drive, but I was pretty sure he was, and Hillary and I were clearly a mess. The police officer was nice and told us to exit off at the next exit and get home. We obviously obliged him and were home in a Jiffy.

At this point I was still living with Mommy dearest and she was thankfully asleep and in bed. I have this tendency to take my clothes off normally, but the urge is even stronger when I'm drunk. As soon as we walked into my house I began to disrobe in our entry foyer and scamp around. At some point Hillary disappeared into one of the spare bedrooms and I was left naked with Hugo. Now I am not a huge whore, but I tend to be more of a sexually free person. There aren't too many friends that I haven't hooked up with in one way or another and tonight in my drunken state Hugo was going to get his chance, I mean I was already naked after all.

At some point while prancing around my house nude I became aware of my nakedness and decided to cover myself with my winter coat that just barely covered my ass. So now I was completely naked except for a navy wool coat with a hood. After partially clothing myself I began making out with Hugo and I don't remember how or why the making out started, but my tactic is to usually just grab your face and force my lips upon you. This was a tactic that I began using in college and is still a running joke with my friends. I am a face rapist if you will. My friends would constantly have to apologize after my face rape advances were often shot down. I don't have very good flirtation skills and I have no idea how to "pick up" someone, but I do know how to kiss and I would pretty much make out with anyone. If you have the balls to just lean in and kiss a stranger why not go with it and enjoy the moment. If it ends up being horrible well at least you have a great story to tell your friends the next day.  This tactic even almost got my ass whooped once when I tried to face rape some dude at a gay bar. He literally grabbed my arm and ushered me out of the bar and hurled me onto the street and into a pile of garbage bags. It was not a moment I am proud of, but I can assure you that my intent was harmless and in my defense I am a very good kisser.

And back to the present story, Hugo and I were swapping spit in the foyer and then I ushered him into my kitchen and onto the sink counter. At this point I lowered his pants and dropped to my knees. I'm gonna let you all infer what I was doing on my knees here. This lasted for a few minutes until this became tedious in my incredibly intoxicated state. I led Hugo to the couch in my living room and we began to fool around and I began to undress Hugo. It was at this point that I heard movement upstairs and I knew that my mom was awake. My mother has a bathroom in her bedroom, but she is a hoarder and her bathroom is unusable because it is filled with random shit. Her bathtub is filled with clothes and assorted goodies and her sink and counter is covered in junk, so she often comes downstairs to use the main bathroom. My mother then made it to the second floor landing and peered around the corner to observe Hugo and I canoodling on the couch. At this point I was naked except for my winter coat and Hugo was dressed, except for a shirt. My mother then quickly jolted into the bathroom and I rapidly attempted to make the situation seem more appropriate by having Hugo put his shirt on and straightened up the couch. As my mother exited the bathroom she came down the steps to the living room level and began telling Hugo that he needed to leave. My mother does not approve of my homosexual activities and definitely opposes my casual sexual trysts. With this in mind I'm sure this experience was particularly jarring for her. Hugo quickly excused himself and ran out into the night, while I was left to face my mother wearing nothing but my winter coat (which at this time I had buttoned). I was still very intoxicated and could not even formulate a good enough lie to make my mother think that I had been doing anything else other than fornicating with someone she didn't know on her couches. I went to bed feeling slightly embarrassed and mad at myself for not exhibiting more restraint.

In the morning I awoke with a terrible headache and a fuzzy recollection of the night before. I chugged several bottles of water, got ready for work and drove Hillary home. I'm almost certain I spent that day locked in my office with my head on my desk. Later when I came home my mother confronted me and I believe our conversation went a little like this:

Mom: "You know what happened last night really disturbed me, and was not something that I wanted to see."

Now I was ready for her, and had formulated what I believed was an immaculate response.

Me: "I know mom, but you see when I get drunk I just happen to take my clothes off."

My mother provided a household that did not make clothes a requirement. Now I'm not saying that we walked around naked all the time, or really ever, but I did spend most of my time at home chilling in underwear. And my mother thought that undergarments were basically just an option, meaning she pretty much never wears a bra or underwear unless she is going somewhere that requires her to be presentable (the mall is not one of those places". The best example of this belief of my mother's is one day in the summer she was out in our front yard gardening and she was wearing her summer "uniform," which consisted of a purple wife beater and blue nylon short-ass running shorts. She became very hot from all the gardening and folded her wife beater up to that she thought was the top of her abdomen to cool off. In actuality she pulled it up above her breasts giving our entire neighborhood quite the show. I do not know how long this lasted before she realized her indecent exposure. My mother was also often guilty of trying on clothes sans panties.

This is the climate in which I grew up and this environment allowed me to become very comfortable with my body and allowed me to develop a healthy self-image. My mother bought my explanation and it appeared that she had not seen anything explicit and had not even noticed that Hugo was at one point shirtless. My mother was still ashamed that she had a son that wore nothing more than a winter coat in front of his friends and her, but this belief was a lot better than if she knew what actually occurred that night. I hope that she will never find out and be spared from the trauma that would undoubtedly follow. My mother and I still don't see eye to eye, but I believe that we are becoming more comfortable with each other and our differing beliefs and life styles.