Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Why?

The other day I was walking on El Conde and saw a man who owns an apartment building in the Colonial Zone. I have rented 3 apartments for clients in his building, so he is always ready to tell me when he has something available for “extranjeros.” As he and I were talking I could see in a distance several buggarons approaching. As they approached I knew what was about to happen, they saw me and in very loud voices said, “Papa!” I tried to give them my prim and proper nod, as if to say, not right now. But, they weren’t having it.

Mr. Quirino smiled at me and said in Spanish, “why do you associate with those buggarones sucios?” We both laughed and he said that he would introduce me to his nephew who was gay. I was kind of taken aback, as I never expected him to say something like that. I immediately said, “no, thank you.”

I then got to thinking, why? Why is it that I have always liked bad boys, for lack of a better word?

I think it all started back in NYC, in Spanish Harlem. I grew up around Puerto Ricans and was often mistaken for one myself. When I was growing up in the 70’s, there were a lot of gangs around, the Savage Skulls, Renegades and Spanish Kings come to mind. This was the time when graffiti was very popular and you went to different neighborhoods to leave your “tag.”

There was a guy who lived on my street named Raphio (pronounced Ray-fee-o), and he was the leader of all the boys on the block, Black and Puerto Rican. He was respected by the adults on the block, even though most knew that he was a gang member. He kept our block trouble-free, and helped the elderly, etc. Then at night he might go raping and pillaging somewhere else, but that was okay.

Raphio was the most masculine, handsome man I had ever seen. I always wanted to hang with the big boys, but then I had a few problems. One was that I was blossoming into a pretty young gay boy, and people were starting to take notice. I was one of those renaissance young gay boys. I could jump double-dutch with girls, braid hair, etc., but then I could also play cops and robbers, baseball and stuff like that with the boys. Ahead of my time, I tell ‘ya.

The other problem was my mother. Bless her heart. When she started seeing changes going on she decreed that I would now have to be in when the street lights came on. In the winter this was not too bad as I had school the next day, but in the summer it was MURDER. From my window I could see everyone playing in the fire hydrant, jumping rope, and just having a good time. This was the time that I absolutely HATED my mother. She would make me read books and give her a book report, I did the laundry, cleaned the house, etc. Today, I am very grateful that my mother did what she did, because I could’ve ended up in jail, or on drugs, like so many of the people I grew up with. But at the time I was willing to risk it.

As I got older and sexually active, I was only attracted to hooligans. As I entered adulthood I still only wanted people who were “bad boys.” When I started working if I had to attend a special function I would bring a change of clothes and couldn’t wait to hit the after-hours clubs and hang with the misfits. When I was young and lovely and started dating, I would meet these educated, smart, handsome men who liked me, but I was just not interested. That has always been my downfall.

So, yes, I like buggarones. Sue me. Now, if I could only find a Dominican psychiatrist who speaks some English, then maybe I could change these destructive patterns.

Oh, well.

19 comments:

New Wave Black Man said...

Alright then James Earl Hardy. The beginning of the novel is born. See ya next week.

Anonymous said...

love yourself more

Monaga said...

I do, that is why I can be honest about who I am.

Thanks, anonymous.

Anonymous said...

Gwen Stefani once asked, "Why do the good girls always want the bad boys?"

We're all trying to figure it out

Mario Sessions said...

Hey Anthony is the cost clear? is it safe to say hello? well anyway wassup see you in 23 days and 13 hrs

We need to get started on that book!

"Da Truth or Fiction?"

Anonymous said...

LOL!!! You are definately NOT ALONE!! I thought I was the only one who liked bad boys....WHEWWW!! I am relieved. See you next week....

Memphis

Anonymous said...

Everyone together on three. One, two, three; "Write the book!" "Write the book!" "Write the book!" Anthony, I'm telling you.. Oprah's book club, NY Times best seller, You have a winner here!!

Mario Sessions said...

You already have a Graphic Designer,
plus your desktop pub. skills we have a team!! I already have the concept...

You are standing in a circle by paco's with all your enemies around you with sticks and stones trying to get at you because you keep it real with your life

WRITE A DAMN BOOK!

Anonymous said...

I too, seem to like the bad boys. They aren't really bad for you, if you keep things in proper perspective. I'll share a story with you. I first visited the DR in the early 90's... I'm not 50 yet but not far away. LOL. On this particular trip, I stayed in Boca Chica and met one of those "Bad Boys" that clung to me like a wet tee-shirt. He was very handsome, sexy and romantic. He looked just like a NYC city boy from the Bronx. I listened to his story as they all have one and decided to purchase his company for about an hour. Now I was in my early 30's and he was in his mid 20s. Now, what happened next may surprise you. I was in Boca Chica for a week and without further payment, this "Bad Boy" or hustler wanted to spend the entire week with me for no additional cost. Did I want his company for the entire week. Well, I certainly did and it was a wonderful experience. So, inspite of the stereotype that accompanies the Buggarons, they are people too with real feelings and occasionally you may find one that likes you for the person that you are and not just your money. This particular Buggaron roamed the resort by day but at 9:00pm every night he was knocking at my door. Did I say that the sex was wonderful and I did tip. So, the moral is.... even Buggarons are human and have a heart.....if they genuinly like you and not your money. Great Site Ant... Thanks for responding to my e-mail about the apartments albeit late. It was appreciated and I hope to meet when I arrive in DR 3/9 -3/14

Anonymous said...

Anthony I could read you forever.
Please write your book. Get your life in order and sit and WRITE!
Aside to the person who wrote, "love yourself more", enough with the cliches, they are BORING! Anthony great reply to that tired statement!

Nena said...

I'm back after many many months...stressed from all this mandatory overtime,working my phattttt ass off..damn job and the job being all over the news is not been easy for us. I wanted to go for my bday on 2/2 but only got 2 days off..so i decided NOT to go.
Anyways, I'm so shocked at what has happened in the DR...! One thing I learned in life, is the good will PREVAIL (they say nice guys finish last but LAST laugh is always the best Laugh~~
Anthony we have NOT chatted or written to each other in quite some time, as "adopted" cousins....Head UP high, booty out and work those hips, hahahaha...DO YA THANG PRIMO!!!! WORK IT! DO IT! LIVE YOUR LIFE. enjoy your life and always remember: keep your friends close but your enemies closer....an oldie but goodie, "They smile in your in face......" i'm sure u can finish those lyrics.
XOX
Nena_Nuyorican~~

Nena said...

Hey Anthony, remember i'm an LMSW (licensed master of social work) i'll do therapy real cheap, hahahahahahaahah~ a drive into the country ;-)4 some fun with the papi chulos~
Nena from "spanish Harlem"!

Anonymous said...

Hi Anthony. I too love Bad Boys. I grew up in the South Bronx in the 70's.

I am saving my money for the boyz. I plan to have a very good two weeks in May.

Anonymous said...

loving yourself a tied cliche well i guess... i have learned to love myself when my lover gave me hiv and i forgave him and nursed him until he died i learned to love myself when i was all skin an bones and they told me i was going to diei learned to love myself when alcohol and drugs would no longer heal my pain i learned to love my self when my friends became strangers and strangers became friends i learned to love myself and have found a new life anew love and career i have survived 20 years because for me love is not a cliche it it life sorry to have bored you

Anonymous said...

Very good, I understood what you meant, and I think Anthony did too. Thanks for taking the high road in response to the rude comment.

Anonymous said...

well at least you know that you need a shrink...all of us ex-pats here in SD have known that since you arrived...

Anonymous said...

Ouch! That was not nice.

Paul said...

I love the good guys. want a good guy. So if any of you find a good guy that you do not want, please pass him on to me.

Monaga said...

anonymous, well, I mean I could be like you, too scared to talk shit under my own name.

At least I know one thing, you damn sure here reading EVERYTHING I got to say.

Why is that?

But, I still love you. When are you changing the name to the Venezia?