Thursday, March 30, 2006
On Being Bisexual (Pt.2)
My bisexual friend E was introduced to me by his wife of several years, D. She was also bisexual, which is how I met her - at a women's rap in Berkeley one night, around 1970. There were a lot of gay and bi women in the group, so it had a cruisey kind of atmosphere. D and I clicked as friends, she soon made it plain she hoped for more with me, but I am not into other blondes. She was pert, intelligent, looked nearly exactly like Sandy Duncan and drove a car like a man.
"Well, you'll have to come over and meet E," she said to me enthusiastically. It seemed we had a lot in common. My romantic intentions were focused on another newcomer there that night, a really gorgeous woman I have written about elsewhere. I was about to embark on entanglements with her and with this new person, my friend D's husband.
So I went over to their house in Marin for dinner. D sent me the menu ahead of time for my approval. She was really into cooking. I remember she got me started with escargots. It was a great meal. The house was great. It had been designed as a class project out of the Department of Architecture at U.C. Berkeley. Lots of wood and glass, nooks and crannies, a shower that looked out on the woods. You get the idea. D and E were living the the dream life, in Marin County, Land of the Hot Tub. In a great time to be in the Bay Area of San Francisco. relatively free of cares, financial or otherwise. They were yuppies before yuppies were invented.
It was easy for me to feel right at home here. E and I hit it off fabulously. D was quite alright with our moving together; she seemed, in fact, to almost be giving it her blessing.
We flirted a lot, and once we made a furtive attempt at sex. D came back sooner than expected, and fortunately we heard the car. She nearly walked in on us. There were no other attempts, at least not at that point in time. I was feeling a bit guilty about D, that may have held me back.
E's feelings toward men were of interest to me, so we had many conversations about how he saw himself as a bisexual person. It was an easy thing with him. He was from a wealthy enough background, educated enough to be comfortable with who he was; his life experiences had given him that, without too much difficulty. Other than the Swiss boarding school incident, which E spoke of with sarcastic good humor. He seemed to let it not bother him.
If people had any questions to ask him privately, he would be happy to answer them. He didn't make a big deal out of who he was. He did not see his parents very much. I got the impression he had been a trying boy before boarding school; this had simply been the last straw.
Now I know two people, male and female, who have been kicked out of so-called "fine" liberal schools for sleeping with members of their own sex. Is there a record for this somewhere?
At the time E was keen on this young strawberry-blond folksinger, male, who had a gig in a North Beach nightclub. We went down to the city one night to hear him sing. Later, he went out with E, D went out with her friends, and I babysat little B at their home. I heard the two guys come back later, I had already gone to bed. Then D came back from her night. The guys were stoned, and laughing and fighting over who was going to get the last of the box of Screaming Yellow Zonkers. For those of you not familiar with the trivia of the early 70s, this refers to the carmelized popcorn now known as Poppycock.
It was a crazy existence. But my curiosity about how E would be as a lover was going to have to wait. I was preoccupied with a lady love, whom E also knew, and that occupied me rather fully at the time.
TO BE CONTINUED
"Well, you'll have to come over and meet E," she said to me enthusiastically. It seemed we had a lot in common. My romantic intentions were focused on another newcomer there that night, a really gorgeous woman I have written about elsewhere. I was about to embark on entanglements with her and with this new person, my friend D's husband.
So I went over to their house in Marin for dinner. D sent me the menu ahead of time for my approval. She was really into cooking. I remember she got me started with escargots. It was a great meal. The house was great. It had been designed as a class project out of the Department of Architecture at U.C. Berkeley. Lots of wood and glass, nooks and crannies, a shower that looked out on the woods. You get the idea. D and E were living the the dream life, in Marin County, Land of the Hot Tub. In a great time to be in the Bay Area of San Francisco. relatively free of cares, financial or otherwise. They were yuppies before yuppies were invented.
It was easy for me to feel right at home here. E and I hit it off fabulously. D was quite alright with our moving together; she seemed, in fact, to almost be giving it her blessing.
We flirted a lot, and once we made a furtive attempt at sex. D came back sooner than expected, and fortunately we heard the car. She nearly walked in on us. There were no other attempts, at least not at that point in time. I was feeling a bit guilty about D, that may have held me back.
E's feelings toward men were of interest to me, so we had many conversations about how he saw himself as a bisexual person. It was an easy thing with him. He was from a wealthy enough background, educated enough to be comfortable with who he was; his life experiences had given him that, without too much difficulty. Other than the Swiss boarding school incident, which E spoke of with sarcastic good humor. He seemed to let it not bother him.
If people had any questions to ask him privately, he would be happy to answer them. He didn't make a big deal out of who he was. He did not see his parents very much. I got the impression he had been a trying boy before boarding school; this had simply been the last straw.
Now I know two people, male and female, who have been kicked out of so-called "fine" liberal schools for sleeping with members of their own sex. Is there a record for this somewhere?
At the time E was keen on this young strawberry-blond folksinger, male, who had a gig in a North Beach nightclub. We went down to the city one night to hear him sing. Later, he went out with E, D went out with her friends, and I babysat little B at their home. I heard the two guys come back later, I had already gone to bed. Then D came back from her night. The guys were stoned, and laughing and fighting over who was going to get the last of the box of Screaming Yellow Zonkers. For those of you not familiar with the trivia of the early 70s, this refers to the carmelized popcorn now known as Poppycock.
It was a crazy existence. But my curiosity about how E would be as a lover was going to have to wait. I was preoccupied with a lady love, whom E also knew, and that occupied me rather fully at the time.
TO BE CONTINUED
