jeudi 9 juillet 2009

The lady and the tramp

So, here’s a cautionary tale if ever there was one. It's a story that I’ve been building up to sharing with you, such is my shame.

Now, you know that if it’s something that I’m embarrassed by then it must be pretty awful, right? Well, it is. Awful and embarrassing and nasty and just plain awful.

I cringe every time I think about it.

I have only ever told one person about it, and he claimed to be very supportive. I guess he was, if you count ‘rolling on the floor laughing, clutching his sides in hysteria’ being supportive. I actually don’t.

So, it all takes place a while back. Long enough ago for me to have gotten over it, recent enough for me to still be dying a little every time I think about it.

I’d been in one of my usual haunts in Paris and had had a couple of beers.

This handsome guy came up to talk to me. He was fortyish, greying, handsome. He had a great smile and a compact yet sturdy body. "Be still my beating heart", thought I.

Turns out that he’s Italian, speaks basic French and tells me that he’s on a training course in Paris. He’s a dental technician – makes false teeth – and he’s training in a lab in the 16th. He tells me that he’s living in a shared house in the 'burbs.

So we chat – as best we can with the language barrier – and we dance and we have a good fun evening. As it gets later, we do the usual….we kiss, we have a bit of a pash and we decide that we need to take this elsewhere.

With him living out in the suburbs, I take him back to mine. We walk home from the bar, stopping occasionally to top up the passion levels. This guy is hot. He’s wearing a leather jacket, black shirt, dark jeans and loafers. He was carrying a laptop bag. Classy enough for me.

We get to mine and before we head to the bedroom he asks if he can shower.

While he’s in the shower, I have to get something from the bathroom and notice that the water is filthy. I don’t really think too much of it – those Paris streets are dirty and loafers with no socks can leave your feet dirty, right?

I also note that he is washing his underpants and socks in the shower. I don’t think this is odd, curiously enough.

So, eventually we make it to the bedroom. It’s already early in the morning and we spend the next few hours doing what you’d expect. It was dirty (in a good way), hot and passionate. I still rate this amongst the best sex that I’ve ever had.

The sex is over and it’s time for him to leave.

"Can I stay for a bit longer?" he said.

"Well, not really," say I. "It’s already 6am and I have to get some sleep and meet friends at 9.00"

"Well, maybe I can sleep here while you meet your friends?"

"That’s not really going to happen is it? I don’t know you, so why would I leave you in the house on your own?"

"OK" he said, and he went to the bathroom to collect his still-wet laundry.

"Maybe you could give me some money?" he said, as he got dressed.

"Why would I do that?" I answered, somewhat stunned.

"Because I have no money, I need to eat".

"What?"

"I have nowhere to live, I am on the streets, give me some money!" and at this point the penny dropped.

I’d been fucking a tramp.

The dirty feet, the washing of the underpants, the laptop bag filled with junk.

He was tanned because he lived on the streets. His whole story had been a lie.

Thank goodness that I only ever have safe sex.

I started to look around and make sure that nothing had been taken. I’d had some english money on the sideboard and noticed that it was gone. It was only a tenner, but still.

He caught my eye as I twigged that the cash was missing. He looked sheepish and handed me the note.

"I only wanted it to buy something to eat" he said.

And that’s when I grabbed his sorry ass and dragged it out of my apartment, furious.

In the hallway, I emptied his bag to make sure that nothing else was in there. I pulled out his pockets and checked that he had stolen nothing else.

Then I got him out of the building.

Holding him by the neck against the wall of my building, I did my best ‘macho gay’ thing. It was more Vin Diesel than Bruce Willis, but I'll live with that.

"If you are not gone from here in ten seconds I will call the police. I will kick your thieving ass and I will then call the police. If I see you anywhere near this building ever again I will kick your ass and then I will call the police".

I let him go and he dropped to the floor.

He picked himself and ran off. Really, he ran away.

I went back to the apartment and took the longest shower of my life.

In some ways this is a funny story – I mean, fucking a homeless guy is kind of hilarious, in a life-out-of-control kind of way. But it is more sad than funny. More scary than hilarious.

I told you it was a life lesson, and boy did I learn something that night.

I learnt that drink isn’t always my best friend, but equally I’m not sure I wouldn’t do the same again, given the evening that we had spent together.

I also learnt that if someone has filthy feet it’s possibly because they sleep on the streets.

Equally I learnt that I’m not a pushover. That I can handle situations. That I can be strong of body as well as of spirit when needs be.

But I also learnt that I need to calm down. To sleep around less and to focus on finding l’homme de ma vie.

A couple of weeks later I met Florida Boy. And the tramp faded into the past.

15 commentaires:

The Mutant a dit…

Oh. I think, quite possibly, for the first time I don't have a smart-arsed remark to go with that one.

That's actually awful. For both of you.

I feel somehow guilty for having read thins.

The Mutant a dit…

err, having read *this*. You know what I mean.

Anonyme a dit…

...is it him?...

Louise a dit…

I have to agree with The Mutant. All of it.

Daryl a dit…

OY ..

How did he pay for his drinks at the bar?????????

I know that's an absurd thing to focus on but still ..

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Mutant, yep, awful. For both of us. I agree...

Conortje, stop it already...no, it's not.

Louise...Did I overshare?

Daryl, Well, that's what troubled me. And that's why I say I'm not sure I wouldn't make the same mistake again....maybe he invests in a couple of drinks in the hope of doubling his money? It was weird.

aims a dit…

I guess I have a different thought on this sweetie.

Having been 'on the hall' - I know how people often end up on the streets. There for the love of family and The Man go I.

I felt bad that you didn't give him some money for food - or take him someplace and feed him. I'm not sure why you judged him so harshly for being without a place to live. He did give the money back and as you say - sheepishly.

There are so many reasons people end up homeless. Usually not by choice.

I'm feeling more sorry for him than for you sweetheart truth be told.

cb a dit…

I know someone who blew a homeless dude in a church confessional. And no, it wasn't me.

So I don't judge. But I do feel a wee bit bad for him.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Aims, I know the deal with homeless people - my brother has worked on a homeless project for the last fifteen years.

I know enough homeless people for whom the whole 'there but by the grace of god go I' story is true.

But you seem to misunderstand the point of the story.

It's about me being stupid and reckless, and needing to stop doing that.

It's not about me asking for sympathy.

I was angry with him and refused to help him not because he was homeless, but because he lied.

He wasn't Italian.

He wasn't on a training course in Paris.

He wasn't a dental technician.

He didn't live in a shared house.

And he did trick his way into my house by lying and then he did try to steal from me.

Why should I have let him keep the money he STOLE?

Why should I have given him money?

There are ways to get money and support if you are homeless.

Tricking your way into people's homes and stealing from them isn't one of them, I'd suggest.

Had he been homeless or living in a sixty room mansion, he would have got the same treatment for trying to steal from me.

So Aims, I think your sympathy is misplaced in this instance.

From what you say, if someone comes into your house under false pretenses and tries to steal from you, you'd just let them take the money?

Of course you wouldn't.

Neither did I.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

CB - you feel bad for a man who tricked his way into your friend's home and tried to steal from him?

Really?

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Mikey S - Really...'roll your eyes' at me when you've read what I've written and taken a moment to understand what I'm saying.

This isn't me asking for sympathy, this is me saying 'this was my wake up call'.

This isn't me being mean to a homeless guy because I discover that he's homeless.

This IS me being sucked in, tricked, fooled, lied to and stolen from....and then being mean to the person who did it to me.

If he'd turned out not to be a dental technician from Verona, but a car mechanic from Swindon, I'd have been equally pissed with him, simply because he lied in order to steal from me.

He was a chancer, a fraudster, a con-merchant.

That's why I was angry.

Maybe it's just me, but I think that's fair enough.

Anonyme a dit…

TBNIL, in my single days many years ago, I met a charming young man (I was young then too), who stole my heart and then proceeded to steal from me - I called the police and he went to prison where he belonged - he was a con man and a thief. I'm sorry if he had a bad childhood or whatever, but I would report a burglar who broke into my house, so why not the same for someone who spent time in the sack with me before stealing.

He did a bad thing and it's bullshit to reward him for it!!!
He is responsible and accountable for his actions and choices.

I too learned a lesson about my judgement, self worth, strength and trust etc. You did the right thing...after doing the wrong thing. Lesson learned. Well done you.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Thanks Rob.

Louise a dit…

Overshare? To me it's hard to overshare in this forum because people are not a captive audience. We read what we want to. Now if that happened to me would I post about it? Not likely. But I like having secrets. But I like other people not having m/any. A bad double standard,I realize. So no, you didn't.

Rosemary a dit…

I kind of... dunno where I sit on this one. I feel very sorry for him; he obviously had to lie because, had he told you (or anyone, let's face it) that he was homeless, he wouldn't have got sex, or a shower, or somewhere to sleep. I would imagine that sex, as priorities go, was probably way down that list.

And yeah, he stole a tenner (come on, are we living in the 1980s where that REALLY matters?!) but he gave it back when you noticed and said "I just wanted to get something to eat". I reckon his lies were justifiable, easily so. I'm not saying you did anything wrong, either, but I don't think this man in any way deserves to be villified for lying. I'm sure we've all lied about a lot worse.