The Saviors in San Francisco

 
They were my saviors, though not in any religious or co-dependent sense. They were the ones who helped me find gay San Francisco and provided the resources to be a part of it. They gave me a job go go dancing in all of their clubs. They invited me to all the parties. They brought over food when I was starving. They provided the drugs.

One night at one of their clubs, another boy came up to me and said, "You know they're going to get tired of you. You're just fresh meat."

I responded, "I don't give a fuck. I'm having fun now."

And they did tire of me. I also tired of them. Well...I didn't really tire of them, I was falling for one of them. They were and are a couple, and I knew I had no chance in hell.

I still see them about the City, and I smile each time. I am whisked back to the podiums and bar tops, the flashing lights and pounding bass, the mesh Calvin Kleins, the free drinks, the easy sex. I am not that person any more, but boy do I enjoy him.

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