Chapter 2

Continued from Chapter 1

More than most people probably want to admit, it is usually quite difficult to move to a new state and make new friends. For me, what is socially hard for many other people, is excruciatingly difficult. All throughout my youth, I had the most difficult time making friends—with my peers, that is. I often gravitated toward my parents’ friends because I did not feel as intimidated or as fearful of rejection as I did with those in and around my age group. I suppose that after years of endless taunting and teasing as a kid throughout elementary and middle school, I became conditioned to expect the worst out of my peers. Unfortunately, that classical conditioning predisposed me to doing things that were definitely weird, and in doing so, would further alienate me from my peer group. Looking from the outside in, it would appear that I caused my own inability to fit in and thus self-generate social-anxiety and other behaviors that made me weird of my own choosing. The truth is, I had been treated so poorly by my classmates and peers that I was never able to properly develop socially and romantically. Although it was most likely the ridicule from my classmates that stunted my social development, I always had a sinking feeling that there was something different about me. But I was fearful to show it and would go great lengths to mask it.

Why is knowing that brief history necessary? It will make sense later on—believe me. Now, back to where I left off in the previous chapter. After my parents left me at my grandparents’ house, it hit me that I was, in a sense, very much alone. Thankfully, I had my grandparents and they were very supportive of my decision to pursue my bachelors degree. Having earned my associates degree at a community (technical) college, I was not prepared for the resident atmosphere of Southeastern University. I was used to everyone just going to class and going home—not spending much time making friends out of classmates. Boy, was I about to encounter a much different atmosphere.

Upon walking into my first class, I was faced with the intimidating and daunting task of selecting my seat. Yeah, yeah, I know that I am already making a mountain out of a mole hill and over analyzing this everyday scenario; but for me, I had to select a strategic seat in order to mitigate any attention I could receive. And as you have probably guessed, I selected a seat next to the window in the front of the classroom near the lectern. No one has to walk behind me, in front of me, and I won’t accidentally catch myself looking at anyone. After everyone filed into the classroom, it was apparent that many of the students knew one another and were friends. Was a hell of a lot different than what I was used to—everyone just coming in and taking their respective seats. And then it happened. The most dreaded moment in any class on the first day: introductions. I hated introductions because I was always worried that I would sound stupid, weird, say something uncool, or come off as really pretentious. To make a long story short, I gave my introduction and to my surprise, I did not spontaneously combust.

After this first class, it was basically my lunch time. I had a nearly three hour block of nothing between my first and second classes. Since I did not have much money to spend, I packed my lunch—or rather, my grandparents packed it. I walked back to my car to get my lunch and took it to the campus cafe. I walked into the quaint cafe and was overwhelmed by the social stimuli. It was overly stimulating so I left the cafe and walked back to my car to eat in there. On the plus side, I could listen to NPR while I ate. Looking at my watch, lunch had only taken up forty-five minutes. Ugh. What was I to do with the rest of that time? It was then, that I remembered that there was a commuter lounge above the recreation center. So, I selected my Streisand playlist on my iPod, placed the earbuds in my ears, and began to walk toward the student recreation center.

The room was filled with gaming consoles and well broken-in couches—the kind that you could take a nap on for hours. Fortunately, there weren’t too many people in the room so I did not feel terribly anxious. I sat at a hightop table, took out my computer, and just spent some time Facebooking and searching for jobs. Pretty soon, it was time to head to my next class. Naturally, I arrived nearly thirty minutes early to scope out the best seat. Pretty much picked the same seat. All the way by the window wall and up in the front. For my class later that afternoon, I did pretty much the same. Moving along.

On Thursday nights, I had my film appreciation class. And it’s important to know specifically which class because something will happen that begins to help me realize who I am. Anyway. Over the course of the semester, I was able to make some friends—friends that I still have to this day. One friend in particular would challenge me from the time we met until this very day. Although there were times her advice fell on deaf ears, most of the time I understood the necessity to heed her advice but was too scared or stubborn to do so. Thankfully, over time, I have learned to be a better listener and am happy to report that she still challenges me from time to time.  Other friends have become very close and dear to me and am so glad they continue to be in my life. In fact, one of my closest friends Raul and I took this class together before we became friends. He and I have been through a lot together, and I am so happy that he met the love of his life, and he and she are happily married. I was invited to their wedding, and all the groomsmen had the opportunity to speak. My speech is now infamous for being 18mins long. It’s funny how two worlds can intersect and you don’t even know it at the time.

As I generally did growing up, I made friends with my authority figures. In this case, it was my advisor and film professor. Although he already had a TA, they were generally not available to help out during the Thursday night class and I took it upon myself to offer my assistance. Later on in my college career, this would pave the way for me to be the TA during my senior year. Most of the class was spent delivering presentations with a self-selected film. We were to select various elements of the film and discuss these with the class, an elaborate critical analysis compete with segments. That previous summer is when Universal Pictures’ Mamma Mia was released, and it was definitely a film that I thoroughly enjoyed. So, naturally I picked that one because I could use song/dance numbers so that way it would be an entertaining presentation—I hoped that folks would get up and dance during the numbers. Of course, my presentation went great! Although I have severe doubts about my ability to connect socially, when I am on stage (whether teaching or performing), I come alive! I guess it’s because I feel that I can be myself on stage. After my presentation, I heard whispers in the audience regarding my sexual orientation. I was feeling uncomfortable on the inside, and realized that I either must be weird or had done something wrong.

One evening, the professor asked me to fill in for him while he was finishing up with a meeting. Perhaps this was foreshadowing my future position as a film professor! I had hoped to do some teaching, but I was only asked to play a film for the class until he arrived. Since Mamma Mia was fresh on my mind, that is the film that I selected to play for the class. And play, I did. Afterwards in the hallway, I was approached by a student who asked me if I was gay. Shocked that anyone would ask me that, I said, “no.” I was probably all confused or flustered at the inquiry. I was raised to believe that those who were gay were social deviants, and that it was wrong. I know, it seems like such an offensive and foreign thought now. But I was a different person then. So, I was scared when I was asked because it could not be true. But as Shakespeare so eloquently captured it forever in ink, “thou doth protest too loudly.”

During this semester at school, I applied for and got accepted into the Disney [World] College Program. I was very excited because I had never been to Disney World before except to visit Downtown Disney (now Disney Springs). I was also in dire need of a job because my savings was running out. If I thought the transition to living at home to living with my grandparents was tough, then I was about to go through hell—metaphorically speaking of course.

Okay, now I know I promised that you would laugh; but it’s really important to understand my past, and just why my dating life is so unbelievably sad, with a touch cruel irony.

After going home for a few weeks, it was time to return to Florida. Only this time, I was not moving back to my grandparents’ place but into Disney CP (College Program) housing. My mom and my aunt drove me down and helped me move my stuff into the new apartment. To this day, I can still smell the fresh paint and carpet. I think it was because it was my first apartment (although, I would have one roommate). I was on the third floor of the building, and had a small balcony that faced the front of the complex. Since the Disney apartments are basically empty—save some furnishings and basic kitchen ware—my mom and aunt went to the store to pickup basic household items for me while I did my in-processing for housing and Disney.

Upon returning home, my mom and aunt had a house full of supplies waiting for me. From some food to get me started to cleaning supplies. We even turned the [what would be the] laundry room into a walk-in closet for my clothes. Later that evening, we went to dinner and then to the Contemporary Resort at Magic Kingdom to enjoy the fireworks together. For my mom and I, this would be the first time that we had ever seen Disney fireworks. My aunt had been there a few times. Although it was from atop the resort, it was magical. And, I will never forget watching them for the first time with my mom and aunt.

The next morning, I met my mom and aunt at their hotel located just around the corner for the last breakfast before they would return home. Thankfully, the further in-processing that I needed to attend was not until the afternoon so I had time to spend with my family before they left. After finishing breakfast and filling me up with gas, my mom and aunt brought me back to my new apartment. They took one last walk through my apartment in order to make sure that I had everything I needed. Well, the time had come. They were going to leave me at my new place. Unlike when my family left me at my grandparents’ place, this time, I would really be alone—separated from everyone I knew. The only solace I had was that I would have my Southeastern friends again just 45mins away in Lakeland when the fall semester started. But this was May. My grandparents weren’t even at their place. Maybe it sounds silly, but I was a little scared.

But why? Looking back, I was scared because I had no social safety net. No friends in Orlando and I already knew how hard it was for me to connect with those in my peer group. There was a mixer scheduled for that evening, and against my better judgment, I decided to go. As I approached the bustling pool party, complete with drinks and the aroma of hotdogs and hamburgers on the grill, I was already way overly stimulated. I tried to sit down by the pool, but I felt that everyone’s eyes were on me. In all reality, I was probably the equivalent of a little hamlet so obscure that Google Maps couldn’t even find me. Still, that didn’t take away from the fact that I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. As I needed to eat dinner, I quickly went through the line and got my food and returned to my apartment.

The next day was Traditions. For those of you who don’t know, that is the class or series of classes one takes when starting with the Walt Disney World company. It takes you through the history of the studios and parks in order for you to gain a better appreciation for the company to take a greater sense of pride in your work. The room was filled with round tables, so that means that I would have to sit at a table with a bunch of other people that I didn’t know. So, sit I did. And so did five other people. Again with introductions. UGH! At least it was only with our small table. Turns out, I had some common interests with a couple of the people at my table and they seemed genuinely interested in getting to know me. I was shocked! Normally, I was accustomed to not being given a second thought.

On the bus ride home, I was seated near those who were at my table. Since we were able to pickup our IDs (which at the time were also the employee or Cast Member park tickets), they invited me to join them in the parks. Very rarely have my peers ever invited me to do anything (up until that time, anyway). On the bus ride back to the apartments, I began to really enjoy my conversation with one of the guys from my table. But, he was totally into the girl behind us. For some reason, there was just a little bit of mild jealousy on my part—in my head anyway. Well, we all went to Hollywood Studios that evening and had a great time. That guy even attempted to show me how to swing dance while in queue for Rock ’n Roller Coaster. I began to have strange feelings for him, but I thought it was just because so few people actually tried to be friends with me.

Moving along. After I could not even pass the assessment at the attraction location to which I was assigned (yeah, I know, kinda sad—haha), I was moved over to PAC (parade audience control). If you have been to the parks, you know how the crowds can get. I go from basically being inside all day to being outside. At first, I absolutely hated working the parade route. But, as much as I hated working the parade route, I loathed working Fantasmic (Fant, for short) even more. The only good part about it is that I had the ability to get to know my coworkers more because there was definitely ample time to chat while we interacted with guests. Working PAC, I got to know my still-friend Mariana and many others. After a couple of months, I was strangely scheduled for a Beauty and the Beast shift. This was strange because, despite having requested to be trained at the show, I had not been trained. I thought that perhaps I was going to start training.

I arrived at Theatre of the Stars (TOTS) expecting to meet my trainer, and the coordinator there told me that he was unsure as to how I got scheduled because I was not scheduled for a training shift. He asked if I wanted to go back to Fant, and I quickly said “NO, that’s alright!” I don’t care what I had to do, I was just happy to not be working the parade and Fant. This mistake in scheduling would prove to be a monumental turn of events in my life.

After having been scheduled at TOTS, I requested formal training so I could be scheduled regularly. It was not very long until I was finally scheduled to be officially trained. I was very excited to see this on my schedule because the hours were much better, unless you got scheduled to work the streets during Fant. But, even then, you still got out an hour earlier than if you worked Fant. Upon arrival at TOTS, I learned that I was not the only one scheduled to be trained but there was another cast member as well. Etienne, who would later become a friend of mine (and still is to this day), was also scheduled to be trained at the same time. He came over from Rock ‘n Roller Coaster. Our trainer Carlos, who would also become a friend of mine, was quite friendly. It didn’t take long to realize that he was also very gay. Haha. Not only him, but Etienne as well. Now, keep in mind, this is still a point in my life that I have not come to terms with who I am.

I was not terribly comfortable with the comments both of them would make about park guests or other cast members. Oh, the remarks were perhaps a little sexual, but totally harmless. For me, though, it was not something I was used to. Looking back, I can totally understand why they reacted to me as they did. To them, I was a walking enigma. Now I know what they thought because it’s the same thing that I think when I encounter closet cases. There is one in particular in my life presently, and I really wish he would just come out. He’d be a hell of a lot less intense and probably more fun. And, probably really good in bed. For instance, regular topics of mine were: Broadway, cinema, theme parks, Streisand, Midler, Channing, Lansbury, Cyndi Lauper, guy crushes, etc. However, when they asked me if I was gay, I said “no, just metro I suppose.” I know, I know. You are right in that I was nothing if not short of pissing rainbows and shitting unicorns. Now, never having been friends with gay guys, this was a world that was foreign to me. They acted similar to me, talked about many of the things I thought about, and gave off similar vibes.

It was a month or so after I started working at TOTS that I was invited out to see Saw IV with Etienne and another coworker. At that point, I had never even seen the original let alone all the gruesome sequels. Technically, I still didn’t really see IV because I watched most of it through my fingers. After the movie, we all went to Planet Hollywood for apps and drinks. Over the course of dinner, the topic of my sexual preferences came up. Honestly, I wanted to be open and honest with the conflicting feelings inside me, but this just wasn’t the time. Or, so I thought. It’s so incredibly difficult to put into words the emotional turmoil my insides were. My entire life, I was brought up to believe that being gay was wrong. So, it was not possible for me to be that way because I did not believe it could be. Why me? It’s like, I had never done anything to consciously choose to be attracted to men over women. But, my whole life, the irony is that I always felt sexually attracted to guys. Never once did I make a conscious decision. It is almost as if I was born that way, not to be so cliche.

So, as I was walking up the stairs to my apartment, I decided to call Etienne. At the time, I was unsure who to come out to, but we were fairly close friends, and it felt safe. As many are, he was excited to hear that I was slowly coming out of the closet. And after I told him, there was a feeling that just went from my head to my toes. Like a giant ass burden had been lifted off my shoulders. Like with many things, honesty is the best policy. When you are honest with yourself and others, so many things that could cause you negative stress are all of a sudden not stressful at all. I was relieved. Over time, I began to come out to others. At first quietly and subtly, but eventually I just didn’t care who knew. I felt normal for once in my life. Like, I was no longer weird or an outcast. I felt like part of the group. But this coming out would present a whole new set of problems in my life, and sometimes these new problems are harder to deal with than the old ones. That group that I felt I was a part of would seemingly want very little to do with me because I did not fit the image I was supposed to in order to not be perpetually single.

Over the next few weeks, Etienne and his then-boyfriend (now partner) Anthony, would take me to my first gay clubs. It was all quite overwhelming, but it’s a world that I so desperately wanted to be a part of. I’d see lots of cute guys with their boyfriends, and I so wanted to join in the fun. Because I have never dated (or tried to date) up to this point, I had to learn the dating game really quickly. You know all those things you learn dating in high school and even in your first couple of years of college? Yeah, I didn’t learn those. So, I didn’t even know how to hit on a guy, let alone get him into my pants. I still don’t know how to successfully hit on a guy that I have a crush on or see while I am out somewhere. But if there was a medal for getting ditched at a club after buying a guy a drink or showing up to a restaurant and he never shows up, then I would have gold. Which, I would exchange for two silver medals because silver goes with everything. Every-time I learn the game, the rules change it seems. Etienne even helped me setup my Adam4Adam (Grindr did not come out until 2010) so I could begin chatting with guys. Everything had changed so radically, and here I was just running to catch up. I had a lot of bottled up love to give, and was looking for someone to take it. Life is certainly a roller coaster, and my ride was just getting started.

Chapter 3

Follow Never Come Out on Top on Twitter

Return to Chapter 1

Preface and Chapter 1

As I work on completing the novel, I thought that you may enjoy a sneak peak. I am currently on chapter 22, and hope to be done by the end of the year. But until then, every once in a while, I will send a chapter your way.  So here you go!

Preface

Alone on another Saturday night—ugh! That moment when you realize that you’re over thirty and everyone else seems to be in or finding longterm relationships, getting engaged, or married. Realizing that you are past your prime, in gay years that is. If you know anything about the gay community, you know that as hard as it is for a heterosexual woman or man to find a relationship after thirty, it is exponentially harder for a gay male because his own community rejects him as desirable, unless he is ripped or rich. It’s a truth that is very real, but few want to address it. My desire is for this novel to (1) keep you entertained with my self-deprecating dark comedy (2) provide thought-provoking situations and (3) spark a change of greater acceptance of those who are over 30, do not have gorgeous hair,  nor are a size small in the gay community. Along the way, you will get the hilarious benefit of vicariously experiencing my dating life (or lack thereof, really). 

Okay. So, you may be wondering what possesses someone to sit down and write about this rather personal subject. Essentially, completely disrobing for the entire world, revealing the good and bad. For me, it’s a cathartic process that allows me to organize my thoughts in ways that I sometimes have difficulty expressing otherwise. Prior to having a desire to write this novel, I had kept up a prolific blog and social media (and still do) that contains my thoughts on cinema and themed entertainment, I’ve written a few screenplays and published my my graduate thesis turned book on the relationship between cinema and theme parks (a’chem, you should read that book too). I’ve always enjoyed writing, but never thought of doing it for the purposes of a novel until now. A few years ago, while my former roommate Savannah and I were eating lunch, I was complaining about being single as I often did. She pointed out that I should channel my energy into something constructive instead of just complaining because I might learn something about myself or others in the process.

At the time I started this novel, I was still a full-time graduate student with a main job and a few side hustles.  So how was I going to find time to write a novel??? Needless to say, there was not a lot of free time. But I had always been a master of scheduling my time in such a way that I maximized my Monday-Friday to have mostly open weekends. Since I started this novel, I’ve actually graduated with my M.A., work in creative services for a well-known live entertainment company and teach screenwriting at a respected university. The idea behind my mastery of scheduling my time was making sure I had time to date. I thought, if I ever found someone to date that I would like to have my weekends free so we could plan amazing adventures together. Unfortunately even to this day, I have rarely had the pleasure of spending a whole weekend with any guy that I have ever been out with or briefly dated. Thankfully today, I am still a master of organizing my time, but found a hobby in figure skating. And work with my coaches every week. I love every minute of it. It has the indirect benefit of taking my mind off guys because I am focused at growing as a skater each week. The direct benefit has been one of psychological and physiological health. I wish I had a hobby back then, but no time like the present.

Before hobbies and a career, I had lots of time on the weekends with which to do something besides complain that I couldn’t find a date and sit on Grindr and OkCupid all day while watching horror movies. My roommate encouraged me to just write down my thoughts and see if it inspired me to write more. For someone whom, at the time, was mostly concerned with academic writing, I was not too keen on the idea, but I gave it a shot anyway. And you’ll be glad that I did.

But I digress. This isn’t one of those stories where I use the next however many pages to complain about my love life and look for sympathy. It IS, however, a story in which you have the prerogative to laugh at my misfortunes. The same events that angered, pissed me off, or hurt me are the same ones I am going to take control of and bring some laughter into your life. And, if this becomes a best seller, then all the guys who are in here will scream FUCK! Because they could be sharing in my fortune or celebrity, but instead are pulling fifty-hour weeks in theme parks, working in menial retail or restaurant jobs, or simply still depending on others to drive them around due to their lack of a car. But, had it not been for all the assholes I have dated or been out with, I would probably not be writing this story, and YOU would not be about to laugh, cry, yell what the fuck, and empathize. Most importantly, you will find the following events to be very entertaining and your morbid sense of curiosity will beg for more.

At this point, you are probably thinking that I am going to take you on a long and boring journey from my childhood through adulthood, but I assure you, this will not be another painful narrative in the vein of the waste of film Boyhood. However, I must set the stage so you can learn about what makes me tick. For this, it’s only necessary to really go back to my life during undergraduate school.

Chapter 1

To quote one of my favorite philosophers, “picture it, Sicily—uhh—I mean Augusta, GA, 2008. I was working at—oh wait—you don’t even know my name. I’m Ryan. Anyway. I was working for the Medical College of Georgia (now known as Georgia Regent’s Medical School) as a property manager—sounds boring, right? Yes, it was! But, for someone who was just working on an Associate’s degree at the time, it was a great job. It is important to realize that at this time, I was not out. I mean, on some level, I was out to myself; but for all intents and purposes, I had not fully admitted to myself, let alone others. Since I have not asked anyone’s permission to use their names, I will replace all the names in this book with other ones. Of course, I will do my best to pick out names that capture my memory of them. Not long after I started my position at the university, a new staff member came on board. He first caught my eye when I was walking past the conference room where he was seated for our weekly meeting. His name was Wakeup Call. What, no good? Well, you’ll see why I think of him in this way. But to make the story flow smoother, we will call him Bryce (always liked that name).

Bryce was a recent post-graduate from William and Mary with undergraduate studies degree from Columbia. And the assets don’t stop on the academic level. He had a fair complexion, slender, medium height, with a beautiful head of jet-black hair and gorgeous green eyes.  I had no idea why I was attracted to him, but I was. This was an uneasy feeling because I felt the instant infatuation I had was wrong. Despite my brain telling me that my blood racing for this guy was wrong, my heart was telling me that there was something natural about this. I just knew that I had to make him a friend of mine.

During this time, I was really struggling in my math class at the community college I was attending. This was after having earned an F and D in college algebra prior. Since Bryce had a Master’s degree in a science-related area, I figured that he must be good at math. Eventually, I asked him if he would be interested in tutoring me in math for $20 a week. Being the nice guy that he was, he agreed. I was hoping that he was going to offer to have tutoring at his place, but we ended up agreeing to go out to eat once a week and go over my math homework.

This professional relationship continued for the duration of the following semester and a friendship grew from it. There were a few times that a group of us from the office would hang out and go out for drinks or catch a movie. It was really fun spending time with him. But, my conscious and subconscious were about to take off in two separate directions faster than ABC distanced itself from Rosanne. Following the close of the semester when our weekly tutoring sessions also ended, I decided to get him something as a token of my appreciation. Over the course of the time we spent together, I learned that he did not own a DVD player. Since the prices of DVD players had dropped significantly over the years, I decided to buy him one and leave it at his office door. This would become a decision that would greatly impact my life.

So, I went to Target and picked up a DVD player that was reasonably priced so that he wouldn’t feel bad that I had spent a lot of money. I decided to be cute and wrap it up and address it to him. Since not many people knew his middle name, I used his full name is the addressed to section of the wrapped package. Here’s where I failed: instead of putting my name on the package, I just wrote “me” with a smiley face. Before you think that it was all cute and stuff, here’s how it went down:

I had just finished getting my hair cut at the salon and received a call from Bryce. I answered it in my usually cheery voice and then that’s when all hell broke loose. Here I was thinking that I was doing something cute for someone who helped me pass my math class and I was being accused of causing major trouble. Before I could say much of anything after “hello,” Bryce asked me in a very stern voice if I had left a package for him outside of his office door. I replied yes. Then he proceeds to tell me that it was treated like a bomb and for me never to give him anything again and he asked me to not talk with him again outside of work-related information.

He hung up the phone, and I was crushed. I started balling my eyes out and got into my car. Part of me wanted to drive into oncoming traffic because I just felt like killing myself. How could something so nice turn into something so horrible? Deep down, I was confused and scared as to why this was affecting me as negatively as it was. I was upset that I caused problems. But what was strange is that I was even more upset that I ruined my friendship with Bryce. It was so utterly crushing that I seriously thought of committing suicide. Since I worked in a medical university, I contacted a coworker who was an instructor and medical professional. I poured out my heart to him and explained that I felt that I was a danger to myself and possibly others. He asked me if I thought I was in danger of doing anything immediately, and I assured him that I did have my wits about me enough not to do anything.

The following morning, he and I met in my office and he asked me if I wanted to speak to his wife that was an RN in the emergency medicine department. I agreed and he set up a meeting for us during lunchtime. We met at the Zaxby’s just up the road from the university and she and I sat down and chatted. After a long conversation, I agreed to check myself into the ER before I was forcibly checked-in and Baker Acted. I was so scared because I had never felt like I was going to lose my mind before. Thankfully, since my friend’s wife was my ER nurse, she made sure the check-in was painless. I met with the doctor and he began to question me about what brought me into the ER. The doctor asked if I wanted her in the room with me, and I told him that was fine. I felt comfortable with someone I knew.

I explained the situation and did my best to convey why I felt the way I did. The next question the doctor asked me would stick with me for a long time. He asked me if I considered myself straight. And, I responded, “well, of course.” It was at the moment that the doctor looked at my friend’s wife with eyes that conveyed a feeling of disbelief. I thought nothing of it at the time, but I can completely understand why he conveyed that feeling in the room. Following my triage, I was moved to the classic padded room where I would remain under observation for several hours. During his time, I found myself exploring my feelings for Bryce and if it really was more than regular old friendship. Needless to say, I was convinced that my feelings were not beyond friendship and that I must be subconsciously struggling with something else.

A condition upon my release was that I would see a psychiatrist for medication and follow up with a psychologist afterwards. As someone who’s always struggled with weight (until the last few years), I was not too keen on medication because many psychiatric meds are prone to causing weight gain. I was finally sent home, but really felt like there was something wrong that needed to be diagnosed. For all those who have ever joked about the padded room—I’ve been there—and although it’s fabulous material for a joke, it’s definitely no laughing matter to experience it. However, I think stories like that can be the basis of great self-deprecating humor. And, when you’re not blessed with incredible good looks or a killer body with a great metabolism, one’s survival can be dependent upon the ability to make others laugh.

I was obviously late getting home, and my parents were inquisitive as to where I’d been. There is no way in hell I could tell them about what happened. After all, I’m supposed to be the stable child. Looking back, maybe it would have been best to talk with them about my experience. But, even though I kinda new I was gay on the inside, I really convinced myself that there is no way that I could be. So, I proceed to see the counselor and take my meds. Never having been on meds before, I could definitely feel the affects of the medication on my energy level and demeanor. It was like everything was okay no matter how bleak. Knowing that I did not want to become dependent on antipsychotics, I took the medication as instructed and was off of them after six months.

After a psychotic breakdown at work, you can imagine that they began to look for ways to fire me or pressure me into resigning. Well, they found one. Okay, now to understand this, let me explain. The guy I had a subconscious crush on at work was a big New York Yankees fan. Directly across the hall from his office was one of the department heads—he was a die hard Red Sox fan. After a baseball game in which the Red Rox beat the Yankees, the supervisor came into Bryce’s office with Bryce’s Yankees ball cap on his cock. There was a huge shit storm after that. Professional and sexual lines had been crossed in a public institution. After I got wind of that, I just knew I had to do something. After all, I still had this weird attraction to Bryce even though he made it apparent that he never wanted to see me again.

Since my department has a contract with the FBI, I decided to call the FBI and tell them what was going on so that they do not get attached to the scandal. Needless to say, when the department was looking for a way to fire me, they went through phone records on our company Blackberrys and found the DC area code on mine. After a few different meetings, it was decided that it would be best for me to resign. The only reason they didn’t fire me is because I had a lot of dirt on them. I was permitted to work for three more months as I look for another job. It was during this time that I decided I was going to pursue my bachelors degree after finishing my Associates that December. I had heard many ads on the radio for a great film program at Southeastern University in Lakeland, Florida. I concluded that I wanted to go to SEU for my degree and I could live at my grandparents’ place about 60 miles away. This decision would prove to impact my life far more than I could have ever expected.

Chapter 2

Follow Never Come Out on Top on Twitter