Scott was the first normal gay man that I had ever met.
God, how I hate that word: normal)
But he was normal:
He drove a pick up truck …
Had a dog …
Worked as a landscaper …
And played Scrabble.
That’s how I met Scott. Playing Scrabble.
Portland Scrabble Club No. 702
(How nerdy is that?)
I had a crush on him from the first time I saw him.
Maybe it was
the hairy chest thing …
the crooked grin thing …
the butt thing …
the muscular arms thing …
That first week he wore a tee-shirt that said: PFLAG
Which he calmly told me stood for:
Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays
The second week he wore a tee-shirt with a pink triangle.
He didn’t have to tell me what that meant!
Scott was the first normal gay man that ever met.
(The tee-shirts were a big help.)
Eventually I learned to keep breathing when Scott was nearby.
Eventually I told Scott I was gay.
I spilled my ice tea and my guts all over the table.
Scott helped me clean up both.
But then Scott moved 369 miles away.
Three months later,
Scrabble would bring us back together in Seaside, Oregon.
He came to play the tournament, but didn’t have a room.
I graciously offered to share a room. (what a guy!)
So at the end of the day, around midnight we came back to the room.
We stripped down to our BVDS and crawled into the king-sized bed.
We talked like school-girls for about an hour
And then Scott rolled over and turned out the light and said, “Good night.”
I lay there frozen and then said,
“Scott, I don’t want to have sex with you, but …”
His eyes flashed open.
“But I have never been held by a man …”
And then …
And then Scott turned to me and put his arm around in me in such a way as to draw me to his
chest and whispered words in my ear that would forever change my life …
“David, you deserve to be held …”
And for the rest of the night I lay cradled in his arms …
… hearing his heart beat
… smelling his warm breath
… watching him sleep
With tears streaming down my eyes I watched him sleep.
I could hear the rain beat gently on the roof.
I could see a small bit of moonlight through the window.
And I remained awake in his arms until the moonlight became sunlight.
As the sunlight became stronger and etched his face
it dawned on me how much he looked like Jesus.