The online diary of a gay courtesan.

I was chatting online last night, and some dude hit me up. We talked some formal chit chat for a little bit before he told me that he’d just had a fight with his boyfriend, had shown his boyfriend my profile, and had told his boyfriend that I was the guy waiting in the wings for him to leave his boyfriend. To which the man said his boyfriend replied, “Well, he’s a pole dancer, so I guess that’s just fucking typical!”

Mhm…

Ring, Ring:

“Hello?”

“Hi, Kettle?”

“Yeah?”

“This is the pot: You’re black.” (Click.)

It occurred to me, after reflecting some about my experience, at that party from last week, that there is a Jekyll & Hyde phenomenon lurking in many club patrons, gay men in particular. It also occurred to me that there is a day & night phenomenon that I want to explore for a few moments. What follows isn’t researched or cited – it’s simply my dialogue with myself about the observations I have about the patrons who disturb me most (keeping in mind throughout that what I will be saying doesn’t apply to ALL people, but is presented as over-simplified generalizations).

People associate metaphoric values to light/dark and day/night, conflating them with good/bad. I have a hypothesis: People almost seem to have it coded into their socializing DNA traits to act rowdy, or to allow their “darker” sides to come out at night. It’s too easy to say that Night is Dark, and thus people let their destructive natures blossom under the moonlight (like lillies of death, I suppose), as if night/dark is the very source of this “bad.”

I think there is a practical connection that goes way back. Without electricity and artificial lighting, your work day effectively ends when the sun goes down. Ergo, your most productive (i.e. work related) activities happen in the light. Once it’s night and you can no longer really do much, it makes sense that people would socialize at night around fires and dance, mingle, or drink. Same with the winter in general: If it’s too dark and cold to farm your land or do any work, then it is an obvious time of year to pack full of festivals and holidays in order to pass the time: Hours not devoted to work or sleep end up becoming hours devoted to play or relaxation.

What if, over the course of thousands of years, we have simply been bred to associate day with respectability and night with scandal? If you follow that line of thought, then in a religious culture that values toil above pleasure (rather than in balance with it), everything done at night becomes frivilous (and therefore non-, un-, or anti-”good”) by comparison. Everything you wouldn’t want people to see you doing, you do at night, under the cloak of darkness where you can hope for some modicum of anonymity. Night becomes a place to hide your shame or guilt.

In this way, all around the world, good, productive people rise and shine to do their respectable work. For a good portion of them there is an attitude that anything of Night must be myseterious, evil, salacious, dangerous, or immoral, since it is the time when productive people are worn out and go to bed. Night is the time of the unseen/unseeable. It is the time when those with something to hide emerge, like monsters out of nightmares.

If you look at my description of that party, it was attended by “upstanding professionals” who mostly happened to be older white, gay gentlemen. This is where the Jekyll & Hyde amongst patrons comes in. Given the way they were acting like rutting pigs at a trough, and given the wild (in some instances dangerous) looks their eyes, and given their total abandonment of all social decorum, exactly what about them should have spoken to their being doctors, lawyers, architects, etc.? How would I, or anyone else who doesn’t know them, ever guess that these grasping, slobbering troglodytes were “upstanding professionals?” If someone is an “upstanding professional,” shouldn’t that define who they are away from work as well? (I can hear it now: “I’m not an upstanding professional, but I play one from 9-5.”)

I don’t understand this dichotomy. I am the same person at night that I am all day long. I am more polite at work than I would be at my house, but I don’t resemble Janus, looking in two directions with every passing moment. I don’t divorce my noctural self from my diurnal self. I am always me. I don’t understand the outright hypocrisy of wearing two diametrically opposed masks. Which is the real you? Do you even know? Are both of them you, or does one compensate for the other? Are neither of them you, and you simply have no idea who you even are? If you, like most people I know, attach part of your identity to your profession, then what does it say about you that this identity slides away so readily when the illumination dims?

Let me be frank: There are many wonderful patrons who act just as civil at the club as they do at the grocery strore. But there is also a sizeable lot who frighten me: When I bump into them during the day, they scurry from my presence, as if I am something toxic or tainted (when usually it is I who should be trying to get away from them). At night they come slinking back with flattering apologies and small tips, bribing me to forget they were espied pretending to be respectable in some other place and time. I might play along more completely, if the dollar earned so respectably wasn’t so disrespectably tucked under my perineum with a lingering grope and a lecherous wink. When Hyde grins at me with my privates in his palm, I simply laugh inside and wonder where the doctor/lawyer/ teacher/politician/engineer is hiding.

The sun is going to rise soon… did you forget that? Or are you ignoring it on purpose? Who is the “upstanding professional” in this scenario? Is there one? The patrons I like and respect the most are not necessarily the ones who give me the most money, but the ones who give me the most hope that I am right in thinking that people, by and large, really are the ”upstanding professionals” they seem to be.

This blog concerns a controversial and personal issue: To have cosmetic surgeries and other appearance altering processes. Scotty, my best friend whom I blogged about recently, suggested I discuss this (and he gave me his permission to use his example).

Some people will argue that altering your appearance betrays a sense of self-loathing or a feeling of inadequacy. However, I find that to be hypocritical. Have you ever styled and/or colored your hair? Do you wear contact lenses? Bleach your teeth? How much jewelry do you wear? Do you paint or manicure your fingernails? Do you work out or practice tanning? Do you ever wear makeup, or purchase clothing that in someway hides/accents traits about your body? Do you have piercings or tattoos? All of these choices modify your appearance. Why surgery is more taboo than the others is quite beyond me.

I think what is most important is that you be comfortable in your own skin. Scotty was scared I would judge him poorly for electing to get pec implants. But that is not the case. I will explain why.

Normally I would frown upon steroids, implants, and unnecessary cosmetic surgeries. Then I realized something: Who gets to decide what is “necessary?” Scotty, when he was very young and still growing quickly, was in a very bad accident. The doctors had to reconstruct his ribcage. They took too much cartilage, and this has affected the shape of one of his chest muscles ever since. The rib underneath that pectoral juts forward now, causing one pec to look considerably larger than the other. The asymmetry is a source of constant insecurity for Scotty. No amount of working out will correct this visual effect. He has found a doctor who can perform an implant.

If Scotty can pay $5,000 for peace of mind on this issue, why should he not? Isn’t his confidence and self-esteem worth that much? That money spent on that implant would change his entire life. I hope he does get this cosmetic surgery – not because I think he needs it, but because I know how much happier he will be when this is put to rest.

As for other examples: If Michael Jackson and his siblings hadn’t become famous at a time when blacks and afrocentric forms of beauty were completely marginalized they may not have felt the need to have had the surgeries they’ve undergone (but at the same time, if the Jacksons hadn’t helped break down racial barriers those prejudices might still be just as strong to this day. Michael Jackson is almost like a sacrificial victim: He gave up his blackness so that other black artists wouldn’t have to??). People mock those who have cosmetic surgery, but I think it’s a wonder of modern science. Anything can be abused, that doesn’t make it evil unto itself.

Would I have these surgeries? Right now, no. I don’t think I need them. Of course there are details I’d improve or change if I could do so easily; however, none of my facial incongruities cause me enough turmoil to go that route. My demon, as I’ve said before, is stature/weight, and that is something I can address on my own through fitness.

Do what makes you comfortable and happy. But, for something as permenant as surgery, get lots of information from a variety of sources first. Be sure that your doctor has completed thousands of successful procedures, and be sure that s/he is licensed and practices the latest techniques. You want your surgery to blend away your insecurities – not create new ones.

Okay, as you can (hopefully) tell from the tones of the entries I’ve been posting, one of the most important themes of this blog is that adult entertainers are in fact human beings. With that carefully crafted hypothesis in place, it is important to recognize (whether you’re a patron, manager, or entertainer) that people are whole beings. There can be no separation between the body/mind/heart/soul. They are all one.

Having a sense of spirituality (not necessarily prescribing to the doctrines of any particular organized religion) is an invaluable anchor. It helps you define your values, and it is a reference point by which you judge for yourself whether or not you are living up to your own standards, whatever they might be. I struggle at times with reacting to the judgement of others: I know myself pretty well, and my feelings get hurt when assumptions are lobbed at me (generally by people who are in no position to cast stones).

With all that said, adult entertainers are people. We have families and friends. We have pets and lovers. We may be on a different path than you, or at a different point along the same path, but we were born with all the same intrinsic value as anyone else. We often bear the brunt of other people’s puritanical sex hangups, but those same people are often our best clients. I personally have given lap dances to state senators, lawyers, doctors, teachers, preachers (one of whom leads of congregation of over 10,000 people in Florida), and married men. Go figure.

At any rate, since adult entertainers are body/mind/heart/souls too, we need all the same types of sustinance as anyone else. There will be times when you are saturated with your work. You will need to take breaks, no matter what career you are in. Take them. Get away. Go somewhere or do something that is cleansing for yourself.

As I mentioned in another blog, I go drive the Blue Ridge Parkway from Boone, NC to Asheville, NC at least once each season each year. That’s four trips each year. I drive with the top down on my car, and I soak up all the beauty and wonder of the Mother in Her naked glory as she evolves through the seasons. I cannot function without these occasional trips.

Find a connection to the universe. Let Life strengthen you. Aligning yourself to a belief system that empowers you is a very important part of being human. Contrary to what jealous haters and right wingnuts may think, adult entertainers who hold onto themselves and thrive (rather than simply live) are just as healthy and happy as any banker or secretary (perhaps more so in many instances).

I wish you Peace. Namaste. Ashé ashé.