Sunday, November 19, 2006
Stories Forgotten

So I totally forgot to tell this story. The story of me and the Big Gay Black Man in Prague. First off, let me say it isn't easy being any kind of minority in Prague- at least that I could tell. I'm sure there are people there who might beg to differ, and there are certainly plenty of tourists from Asia and the like. But, Big Gay Black Men? Not so many of those.
I was on my way to the Jewish Graveyard when I ran into BGBM on my way out the hotel door. He greeted me with his trademark smile, and asked if he could accompany me there, since he would be traveling to a museum right next to the graveyard. I willingly accepted his offer, as I was not too keen on traveling by myself anyways, and he's really good company.
BGBM is a fantastic dresser, kind, polite, amazing sense of humor, sexy and handsome- everything you want in a man. Everything, that is, except you know....into women.
Pity for us girls, yep.
So we walk and we talk, we talk about being different in Prague- the implications of that, what that means, how you just sort of have to keep on walking despite the stares and the judgements. I know this all too well. He explained to me that he just sort of lets them have a "nice long look...front and back view."
He's a good sport like that. Me? Not so much. I'm far more self-conscious about the stares I get. The looks. The pity. I have to work on that.
We walk arm in arm, he supports me with one arm and part of a hand down the very steep escalator into the subway tunnel, the one that practically LAUNCHES you off when you get to the bottom or the top. It's incredibly fast. We laugh at my inability to keep my balance. We make utter fools of ourselves. I'm glad to have BGBM there. Otherwise, I'd totally fall on my face.
While we are wating, we notice yet more stares, we talk about how no one offers to help us when we need it. We talk about being lost and unable to find our way back.
In the subway train, we sit down. Despite the fact that it is moderately crowded, one guy openly gives BGBM a look and gets up from his seat. He'd rather stand than sit next to BGBM, apparently. Ooookay then. I roll my eyes and put my arm through his in solidarity. We different types have to stick together. He gives me a sigh and puts his head on mine (he's about 6'5") and tells me he understands. At least he knows where he does NOT want to retire when he's ready.
I nod. We walk the rest of the way in silence, only pausing to traverse the cobblestoned streets extremely carefully in the post-rain wetness.
The reflections are beautiful. We part ways soon after, and with a wave he disappears into the crowd.
And that is when I felt very alone and different.