Saturday, December 17, 2011
Sex vs Love from my book "From Gigolo to Jesus"
Sex vs Love pgs 19-23
"Jill" and I began dating and instead of me listening to my par-ents advice that I needed to be with one woman I honestly be-lieved there was nothing wrong with me having a girlfriend that I loved and treated well, but at the same time having other women
that I used on occasion to have sex with. I didn’t know that you weren’t supposed to have other women when you had someone you were calling your "girlfriend." In my world as long as I could keep the whorish man that I was separated from the man that I was trying to be with this young lady then the world was good. I didn’t apply any pressure to her to have sex: one, because I ac-tually respected her and two, because I had other women to take care of me if I needed. I learned to be romantic and nurturing. The loving young man that my mother was trying to raise was slowly coming forth.
Jill and I had the typical boyfriend-girlfriend scenario. She came to my basketball games to cheer me on. She wore my school jacket. When I think back God had blessed me with an equal because all of my weaknesses were her strengths. My call-ousness and ego were tempered by her humility and passion for life. She was a great singer and I loved to listen to her. Where her self-esteem was shaken, I had extra and I refused to allow anyone to speak negatively of her.
She took up more of my mind and time than I was used to any one woman having, but like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde once I had hung up the phone, took her home, and she was no longer around I became that other side of me. I evolved into a creature with two faces and those faces switched back and forth when needed. This creature operated unabated for some time, but you can’t live in New York City with a population of five to seven million people and not run into someone who knows you, knows of you, and or knows the current person you’re dating. My ego allowed me to think I was greater than that.
As our relationship grew and we started to come upon the hol-idays Jill and I had agreed we were going to keep gift giving very simple. This was one of the greatest experiences, outside of sex, that I had ever had in a relationship. It was honestly the first. Jill gave me a stuffed toy Garfield cat because she knew I was a fan of the cartoon. When it was my turn to give a gift I decided to do it at school. Anyone who knows me knows that even when I do something simple it has to be grandiose. We were sitting in the main lounge where all the students hung out waiting for their next class. On one side was a wall of windows from floor to ceil-ing. I could see when a friend of mine came out of her car with the gift I was giving Jill. It was a huge stuffed toy horse. I stepped out-side and when I came back I was carrying this gigantic horse on my back. I crave attention so it was nothing for me to stand on a table in the middle of the lounge and explain to everyone that the stuffed animal was for my lovely girlfriend. I almost fell off the ta-ble, but everyone laughed.
A few hours later I overheard her tell a girlfriend she wanted a Fendi pocketbook. I had no idea who or what Fendi was, but I could hear the excitement in her voice about having one. I was big on romantic statements and I was going to try to do something special. Armed with grant money that was supposed to be for my tuition, I decided to get a Fendi bag for her for Christmas. I was told the place to get it was Macy’s department store. The Christ-mas Holiday in New York is not just happy greetings and good cheer. You have overcrowded streets, cranky pedestrians, and tempers pushed to the limits at times. It was bedlam, but I was determined to get a gift to impress my girlfriend.
When I walked into Macy’s I was immediately in a sea of bod-ies scurrying back and forth. It was like every movie you have seen of New York City, but multiply it by ten. Between the Christmas music, the noise, and the voices it was easy to become over-whelmed, but I was powered by love. I was so focused that it was almost silent as I looked for a salesperson to help me find Fendi. Instead I found a neat and professionally dressed security guard standing to the side.
"Good evening, where can I find a Fendi bag?" I asked him. He points to a whole section that is screaming Fendi and says, "Right over there, stupid." Wow, only in New York can a young man ask about a very expensive designer and be called stupid at the same time.
As I walked over to the Fendi section, a very friendly looking saleswoman was smiling at me. She was about in her late to mid thirties and I could tell that she’d been working at the store for a long time because as soon as I asked her about purchasing a bag for my girlfriend her eyes immediately lit up and she went straight into her sales pitch. Pulling out each bag placing them on the counter explaining what they’re used for and their different fea-tures. I started to become overwhelmed. Now, I can hear the noise of all the people around me. The holiday music is starting to sound deafening. I’m feeling pressure because I don’t know which bag to choose. So, like the ghetto kid that I was I based my deci-sion on how much money I had in my pocket
"Which of these bags can I get for two-hundred dollars?"
You would have thought that I had just spit the "B" word at her. The saleswomen turned pale. Her smile disappeared and she looked as if she had been disrespected. She snatched all of the bags off the counter and starts to put what looked like miniature versions of the same bags onto the counter. They didn’t come with any speech. They didn’t come with any elaborate sales tech-nique like she had just done for those other bags. It was, "Here you go."
There were basically three bags. One looked like a mutant tootsie roll with a little tiny change purse. Another one looked like a gigantic cigarette case, and the last one looked like a long wal-let. She’s gives me the prices of the tootsie roll and the bag with no handle which I found out later was a clutch. Now, of course, when you’re young and in love, none of that matters. It’s Fendi and it was real Fendi. Even though I didn’t know I could have gone out on the street and saw one of the street vendors who could have given me the knock-off version for maybe twenty-five dol-lars, but when you’re in love, you do stupid things. This was my stupid thing. So, I went with the clutch. It was two-hundred forty dollars, but because the saleswoman just wanted to make the sale she gave it to me for $200. I headed back to Jamaica, Queens with a smile on my face.
Jill was due to come to my house Christmas morning because we agreed I would go with her to her grandmother’s house Christmas night. She had Christmas breakfast with my mother, sisters and me. After we all settled down and got comfortable in the living room I gave Jill her gift. We had already exchanged gifts so she wasn’t expecting anything else.
"What is this?"
This is where, when I look back at myself, I realize that the man I am now had roots in me then. The seeds were there, but the weeds of the sexual beast and creature that I was were so in control of my life that those seeds had to take refuge in the mud which was my soul only to come out when they knew they were safe. Watching her tear open the wrapping paper was similar to watching a holiday movie and the characters are right at that moment when they are going to get their wish from Santa Claus.
She opened the box with the clutch inside. She picked the clutch up never taking her eyes off of it. I could see tears began to form in her eyes as her fingers slowly caressed it. There was com-plete silence as the tears now started to roll down her cheeks. When she looked up at me with those eyes, it didn’t matter what I went through to get the bag. I had accomplished what I wanted and that was to send from my heart to her heart how I felt. Oh, I can still feel the hug and I can still feel the kiss and I can still feel that excitement of that moment.