![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cellboy1. I was thinking yesterday about my first gay friend, Shayle Herman
2. He was my help, and somewhat helping hand in my coming out in 1984. Confused and curious and anxious as I was, he really was my solace.
3. He worked at a pharmacy in town, as manager. I met him there. But did not know he was gay till I ran into him at the local gay bar one evening
4. He was an odd soul. He had a lot of demons, and guilt growing up. Growing up in Detroit, his childhood was not easy. He was raised in a strongly Orthodox Jewish family. The only thing I remember is that he said that all his life he was longing for acceptance from his mother. She was a bitch. On her death bed, she still did not give him the love he so desired. Her last words, he said, was that she condemned him for being gay, and would never forgive him. His sister, was a bitch. He never saw her often. When he did go back to Detroit to see her, all it was was fighting. And he had not seen or heard from his brother in years. His father, if I remember was an alcoholic. Left the family years ago. He had not spoken to him in almost 20 yrs. The only thing good that he attained from his mother was his decorating sense. She was a decorator. And his home, with his knack of putting things together, even with less pricy things was phenomenal.
5. The whole family was a dysfunctional mess to say the least.
6. So his life and mental state was always in drama and flux. His partner Steve, was a cub hunk. But had the personality of a fly. They loved each other, but over the yrs it evolved into an open relationship. Then later, a roommate setup. All Steve would do was work, come home, light up, and smoke pot all night. Every night. So his ambition to socialize, or do much of anything was nill. He was comatose.
7. Shayle was not the best looking, but what set him off was his blue eyes. They were gorgeous.
8. He was underweight, skinny, frail looking. He had an eating disorder. Actually a sleeping disorder. He slept walked. Almost every night, he would get up. Go to the kitchen, cook, eat. Raid the pantry. Only to wake up the next day to find out, that all the food was eaten. By him. And not even remember. He was once over 250lbs. By the time I met him, he was about 140lbs. So he never ate during the day. Only cigarettes and coffee, is what filled the day to keep him going.
9. He was a bigot. He hated African Americans. Jewish, growing up in the suburbs of Detroit, he says is what made him that way. Where he worked in East Menlo Park, was next door, to East Palo Alto (the West Oakland of the SF peninsula). So all day, he, with is bigotry, had to deal with the clientele, which included the loony vets from the VA mental hospital across the street.
10. Sex. He was a bookstore, and park whore. He would pick up homeless, African Americans, and....... So talk about trying to figure this one out. He is a bigot? In fact I vaguely remember that he was supporting a homeless person for awhile. And he was unsafe. He did not believe in condoms, drank cum, anyone's cum.
11. He would meet someone, date, then break up. DRAMA. DEPRESSION for days. I would console, try to help. He would visit, and hours on end we would talk about life, his and my breakups, cry, and laugh. In spite of his shortcomings, he was a true friend. A help indeed. And I think I was a good friend for him too.
12. He had 4 dogs, the Benji kind. And when the mother passed, rightfully so he was tormented. They were his children. Sadly some of the children of the mother shortly followed, due to their grief of loosing the mom.
13. During his bouts of feeling sorry for himself, I would not hear from him for days, maybe weeks. I would call, leave messages. But no response. Then later I would get the call. He was down. Met someone, or depressed about being alone. Then a few days later, after his call he would be back to his normal self.
14. He was unhappy. So unhappy he sold his home, and he and Steve moved to Marietta, GA, into a very big home, thinking life would be greener on the other side of the country. It wasn't. A year later, they were back. But returning to a booming real estate mkt. But managed to buy a smaller home in, the the same neighborhood. He was a work alcoholic. In the 80's-90's with all his over time, he grossed over 50K/yr. He was frugal, but generous. And to be fair, he had many happy times too.
15. I later found out that he was obtaining Codine, from his boss, at the pharmacy, free of course. So he was medicated to the max. And towards the end of our friendship, I think he was on it daily. It did change him.
16. Although his life was a mess, he gave me the strength to ride the highs and lows of coming out. I had some rocky relationships and brake ups during my own turbulent years. But there one thing that he told me often, which I still to this day remember and follow: "No matter what happens to you, when you are hurt by someone. Never close your heart. Always keep it open. For someone else will be there to find it. Keep going. Don't give up. "
17. We used to go out once in awhile, but he was odd. Wanting to go out, we would. But within an hour or two upon arrival at a venue, he would want to go home. So later, we agreed that when we go out together, we go in separate cars. That way, if he wanted to go early, which was always the case, he could. Nothing worse than getting ready, driving up from Redwood City to San Francisco, then a hour later, wanting to go home. One thing he loved to do was frequent the 1808 Club, which he introduced me to. And also Sex Night/Movie Night at the Strand Theater on Market. On Thruday nights. He liked sleeze. He liked the bathrooms at Emporium at Stanford Shopping Center. His favorite bars? The old Hole in the Wall A My Place, and The Castro Station.
18. So what of his fetishes? One was hairy chests. The other, was gambling. Slots only. And balloons.
19. I knew his weakness for hairy chests, for he told me. And I found out once, when at my place. Sitting on the couch, talking and drinking wine, he somehow maneuvered next to me, started stroking the fur on my chest under my open shirt. And he then proceeded to beat off. That was the only sex, if you call it that, the we had during our friendship. If he were in a bar and saw fur, excited he was. Almost to the point of fainting!
20. Gambling. Once or twice a year, it was the drive to Tahoe. To spend a 48 hr non stop play at the slots. Again. He was mesmerized. Almost hypnotized.
21.Balloons: Once we were to meet in San Francisco, at the Castro Station (the Bar on Castro now). We met in front and walked in. There was a party of some sort going on. The bar ceiling was covered in balloons. He looked at me, his eyes opened wide, almost dilated. He looked like he had the sweats, or seen a ghost. He got nervous, and shaky and said he couldn't stay. He had to go.
22. I questioned him days later. And he explained. A long time ago when he was a little boy, he had large beach balls at the family home. He would bounce on them, play with them. He found out that when he layed on them, stomach down, he got aroused. As he got older, these were some of the tools he used for his personal play. Some of this also transferred to balloons. The large kind. That you can fit between your legs. He said the latex, or balloon material against his naked body and groin was a big turn on.
23. Then later on in his life, he had lived with an older man, who was also into balls and balloons. He said his first experience of receiving anal sex was when he was on his stomach, on top of a large athletic ball.
24. So the fetish grew. He had several different sized balls and balloons tucked away in his closets.
25. I remember going to a fair with him, and some kid was in front of him playing with a balloon. And the merchant was making animals with them. The squeaky sound, the play with the balloons was driving Shayle crazy. Like sexual torture.
26. He was the only person I knew with this unique fetish.
27. Check out X-Tube, and search "Balloons". Interesting.
28. After awhile, we started loosing contact. Shayle felt that his personal problems, and his ranting to me about them all the time was unfair for me. Especially since he was not solving them with my or his therapist's suggestions. So he slowly withdrew from our friendship. And to be honest, his downer problems, were getting burdensome.
29. Then once I met my partner Larry, we did see him a few times. But not much. Larry and Shayle liked each other, but I really am not sure if Shayle was a bit jealous of our relationship.
30. As the yrs went by, we lost contact. When my partner Larry died in 1997, that was the first time I had seen Shayle in years. It was at the funeral. But not much more after that.
31. Time went by. I then moved to Pacifica, about 4 yrs ago.
32. So I get a call from a friend in the Redwood City area, that frequented the pharmacy, and knew Shayle.
33. He called me, to tell me that they said Shayle had died.
34. I called the pharmacy, and talked to the gal that I vaguely knew before. She said, he had died of lung cancer. He did not want anyone to know of his illness or pending death. His sister took care of the estate etc... His roommate Steve, who had my number, never bothered to even let me know what was happening. But I let the ball drop too.
35. I don't know why I thought of him today. And I don't know why I miss him so. And so all of a sudden. I think the words the told me, about keeping one's heart open, just hit me today. And so I thought of him.
36. Wherever you are Shayle, I hope you are free from all the pain you suffered while here on earth. I miss you.
2. He was my help, and somewhat helping hand in my coming out in 1984. Confused and curious and anxious as I was, he really was my solace.
3. He worked at a pharmacy in town, as manager. I met him there. But did not know he was gay till I ran into him at the local gay bar one evening
4. He was an odd soul. He had a lot of demons, and guilt growing up. Growing up in Detroit, his childhood was not easy. He was raised in a strongly Orthodox Jewish family. The only thing I remember is that he said that all his life he was longing for acceptance from his mother. She was a bitch. On her death bed, she still did not give him the love he so desired. Her last words, he said, was that she condemned him for being gay, and would never forgive him. His sister, was a bitch. He never saw her often. When he did go back to Detroit to see her, all it was was fighting. And he had not seen or heard from his brother in years. His father, if I remember was an alcoholic. Left the family years ago. He had not spoken to him in almost 20 yrs. The only thing good that he attained from his mother was his decorating sense. She was a decorator. And his home, with his knack of putting things together, even with less pricy things was phenomenal.
5. The whole family was a dysfunctional mess to say the least.
6. So his life and mental state was always in drama and flux. His partner Steve, was a cub hunk. But had the personality of a fly. They loved each other, but over the yrs it evolved into an open relationship. Then later, a roommate setup. All Steve would do was work, come home, light up, and smoke pot all night. Every night. So his ambition to socialize, or do much of anything was nill. He was comatose.
7. Shayle was not the best looking, but what set him off was his blue eyes. They were gorgeous.
8. He was underweight, skinny, frail looking. He had an eating disorder. Actually a sleeping disorder. He slept walked. Almost every night, he would get up. Go to the kitchen, cook, eat. Raid the pantry. Only to wake up the next day to find out, that all the food was eaten. By him. And not even remember. He was once over 250lbs. By the time I met him, he was about 140lbs. So he never ate during the day. Only cigarettes and coffee, is what filled the day to keep him going.
9. He was a bigot. He hated African Americans. Jewish, growing up in the suburbs of Detroit, he says is what made him that way. Where he worked in East Menlo Park, was next door, to East Palo Alto (the West Oakland of the SF peninsula). So all day, he, with is bigotry, had to deal with the clientele, which included the loony vets from the VA mental hospital across the street.
10. Sex. He was a bookstore, and park whore. He would pick up homeless, African Americans, and....... So talk about trying to figure this one out. He is a bigot? In fact I vaguely remember that he was supporting a homeless person for awhile. And he was unsafe. He did not believe in condoms, drank cum, anyone's cum.
11. He would meet someone, date, then break up. DRAMA. DEPRESSION for days. I would console, try to help. He would visit, and hours on end we would talk about life, his and my breakups, cry, and laugh. In spite of his shortcomings, he was a true friend. A help indeed. And I think I was a good friend for him too.
12. He had 4 dogs, the Benji kind. And when the mother passed, rightfully so he was tormented. They were his children. Sadly some of the children of the mother shortly followed, due to their grief of loosing the mom.
13. During his bouts of feeling sorry for himself, I would not hear from him for days, maybe weeks. I would call, leave messages. But no response. Then later I would get the call. He was down. Met someone, or depressed about being alone. Then a few days later, after his call he would be back to his normal self.
14. He was unhappy. So unhappy he sold his home, and he and Steve moved to Marietta, GA, into a very big home, thinking life would be greener on the other side of the country. It wasn't. A year later, they were back. But returning to a booming real estate mkt. But managed to buy a smaller home in, the the same neighborhood. He was a work alcoholic. In the 80's-90's with all his over time, he grossed over 50K/yr. He was frugal, but generous. And to be fair, he had many happy times too.
15. I later found out that he was obtaining Codine, from his boss, at the pharmacy, free of course. So he was medicated to the max. And towards the end of our friendship, I think he was on it daily. It did change him.
16. Although his life was a mess, he gave me the strength to ride the highs and lows of coming out. I had some rocky relationships and brake ups during my own turbulent years. But there one thing that he told me often, which I still to this day remember and follow: "No matter what happens to you, when you are hurt by someone. Never close your heart. Always keep it open. For someone else will be there to find it. Keep going. Don't give up. "
17. We used to go out once in awhile, but he was odd. Wanting to go out, we would. But within an hour or two upon arrival at a venue, he would want to go home. So later, we agreed that when we go out together, we go in separate cars. That way, if he wanted to go early, which was always the case, he could. Nothing worse than getting ready, driving up from Redwood City to San Francisco, then a hour later, wanting to go home. One thing he loved to do was frequent the 1808 Club, which he introduced me to. And also Sex Night/Movie Night at the Strand Theater on Market. On Thruday nights. He liked sleeze. He liked the bathrooms at Emporium at Stanford Shopping Center. His favorite bars? The old Hole in the Wall A My Place, and The Castro Station.
18. So what of his fetishes? One was hairy chests. The other, was gambling. Slots only. And balloons.
19. I knew his weakness for hairy chests, for he told me. And I found out once, when at my place. Sitting on the couch, talking and drinking wine, he somehow maneuvered next to me, started stroking the fur on my chest under my open shirt. And he then proceeded to beat off. That was the only sex, if you call it that, the we had during our friendship. If he were in a bar and saw fur, excited he was. Almost to the point of fainting!
20. Gambling. Once or twice a year, it was the drive to Tahoe. To spend a 48 hr non stop play at the slots. Again. He was mesmerized. Almost hypnotized.
21.Balloons: Once we were to meet in San Francisco, at the Castro Station (the Bar on Castro now). We met in front and walked in. There was a party of some sort going on. The bar ceiling was covered in balloons. He looked at me, his eyes opened wide, almost dilated. He looked like he had the sweats, or seen a ghost. He got nervous, and shaky and said he couldn't stay. He had to go.
22. I questioned him days later. And he explained. A long time ago when he was a little boy, he had large beach balls at the family home. He would bounce on them, play with them. He found out that when he layed on them, stomach down, he got aroused. As he got older, these were some of the tools he used for his personal play. Some of this also transferred to balloons. The large kind. That you can fit between your legs. He said the latex, or balloon material against his naked body and groin was a big turn on.
23. Then later on in his life, he had lived with an older man, who was also into balls and balloons. He said his first experience of receiving anal sex was when he was on his stomach, on top of a large athletic ball.
24. So the fetish grew. He had several different sized balls and balloons tucked away in his closets.
25. I remember going to a fair with him, and some kid was in front of him playing with a balloon. And the merchant was making animals with them. The squeaky sound, the play with the balloons was driving Shayle crazy. Like sexual torture.
26. He was the only person I knew with this unique fetish.
27. Check out X-Tube, and search "Balloons". Interesting.
28. After awhile, we started loosing contact. Shayle felt that his personal problems, and his ranting to me about them all the time was unfair for me. Especially since he was not solving them with my or his therapist's suggestions. So he slowly withdrew from our friendship. And to be honest, his downer problems, were getting burdensome.
29. Then once I met my partner Larry, we did see him a few times. But not much. Larry and Shayle liked each other, but I really am not sure if Shayle was a bit jealous of our relationship.
30. As the yrs went by, we lost contact. When my partner Larry died in 1997, that was the first time I had seen Shayle in years. It was at the funeral. But not much more after that.
31. Time went by. I then moved to Pacifica, about 4 yrs ago.
32. So I get a call from a friend in the Redwood City area, that frequented the pharmacy, and knew Shayle.
33. He called me, to tell me that they said Shayle had died.
34. I called the pharmacy, and talked to the gal that I vaguely knew before. She said, he had died of lung cancer. He did not want anyone to know of his illness or pending death. His sister took care of the estate etc... His roommate Steve, who had my number, never bothered to even let me know what was happening. But I let the ball drop too.
35. I don't know why I thought of him today. And I don't know why I miss him so. And so all of a sudden. I think the words the told me, about keeping one's heart open, just hit me today. And so I thought of him.
36. Wherever you are Shayle, I hope you are free from all the pain you suffered while here on earth. I miss you.
