Chapter 10 Gays in Bartlesville

Let me say this, about that. There were plenty of gays in B'ville in the 80's. I am not talking about the guys meeting in the men's room down in Johnstone Park at the time. They probably still are, but that is their business. It did hit the paper when the police set up a sting. Maybe they thought they'd catch George Michaels. There were a bunch on the down low. I really don't care much one way or the other. I had an uncle I was close to and both he and his partner of 25 years died of HIV. No they were not monogamous. They cruised during the height of the AIDS outbreak and died as a result. I also had a good friend who I worked theater with during college in Germany. He did directing and was also in active duty military intelligence. A former Green Beret he turned out to be gay too. The killer was he and my uncle met in Georgetown while I was in college in Virginia and...well let's just say the image of the two of them together is etched in my brain. LOL. Actually in the event, the friend from Germany saw a picture of me and my sisters on his dresser. My uncle later told me the story. So in B'ville, there were a lot of closet gays. I'll illustrate it with a few stories. I used to run at lunch. On more than one occasion I was followed all around down town by some guy in a car. Must have been getting his jollies, or wanted to talk. I gave him the opportunity for the former, not the latter. Another gentleman, Jack, was a highly placed lawyer in the Patent Division out in R&D. He used to stop me in front of the Adams building and want to chat while I jogged in place dripping with sweat in my running shorts. If that wasn't enough to raise my suspicions, more was to come. I wrecked my truck one snowy evening going to Marie's club on ice slick roads. I undertook to rebuild it in my driveway. Numerous people stopped to comment on my progress including the lawyer. He lived down Cherokee, and drove by my house every morning. He offered to start picking me up in the morning so I would not have to walk down town to catch the R&D shuttle. He was a very nice man, but I gathered there was more interest there than being neighborly. What does a 50 something suit has in common with a 20 something professional 2 years out of school? I think he got the message that I was not really interested in any middle aged hairy butt cracks. But there was more. Around the corner off 14th Street and either Johnstone or Keeler, maybe Dewey, lived a couple. My Ex #1 performed in some production at the Civic Center and met this guy. He worked in the Plastics group out at R&D. He was married to this heavy set Jewish gal. Hell, he was probably Jewish too. They were a gregarious and out going couple. They invited us over for a party. Yes, my Ex and I still went out together; it is after all a small town. Anyway, he invites me over to tour the plastics offices and introduces me to the absolutely gorgeous Osage Indian gal. Legs to the moon, looks, just gorgeous. She lived in Pawhuska. He more than suggests that the gal would like to meet me, so we go out to Pawhuska one weekend and it turns out we are there to help her move. Okay, so my raging hormones were used against me. I liked the exercise. Well, next he wants to go out to Tulsa with me. So I say okay. I had not quite gotten the gay vibes yet, but they were coming. He drives, and we hit the S&J Oyster Bar down on Peoria. I sit at the corner of the bar and he sits to my left. I start to sense things are not what they seem so when he hits the head, I strike up a conversation with this moderately attractive gal to my right with a set of juggs that would turn a gay man straight. A life preserver. When we leave, I have her in tow. We go to the club next door, some little biker like place. We have a few drinks there. Then my gay friend decides he'll up the anti in order to try to scare off my new found female companion. He wants to go to Zippers on the east side. So be it. I'd been to gay clubs before and knew what to expect. In college my girlfriend worked as a bartender and I waited tables. The only clubs we could go to after hours were gay, not profit clubs that could serve liquor. they were member ship only, and a co-worker of her's had a card. It was funny waiting in line and seeing the business men with their boy toys waiting in line. Presumably their wives were home sound asleep. Well, we went to Zippers and me and this gal find a cozy booth and order a drink. I think by that time it was clear to my new found, soon to be ex gay friend that me and the girl had hit it off. Maybe it was all the spit swapping we were doing. Long story short, I cut him loose and stayed with her for the night. In the process, I met the two most perfect breasts that I have ever shared a bed with in my 51 years on the face of the Earth. I also got a case of the crabs. But that is another story. Another example is a co-worker in International Exploration. He lived in Tulsa, drove a fancy car and never, I mean never was seen in the company of a woman. I had suspicions. Well, at the time I fit the description too, but only the part about living in Tulsa and driving a, well sporty, not fancy, car. But I was always with a woman. Anyway, only recently I found out from a co-worker that the guy in question was having "health" problems. I read that as HIV related problems. I like the guy, so I hope that with the proper treatment and the right drugs he will live a long time.