He taught at the city's elite "Ivy League" Columbia University, founded in 1754 by King George II's royal charter. (The school was originally named King's College--just like the one in England. After America's War of Independence, it changed its name, but it's logo still features a crown).
Despite his highfalutin career, he had low-key conversations without acting too lofty. He was funny, thoughtful, and gallant.
However, he was partnered to someone who supported his life's passions. Nonetheless, there seemed to be a spark between us, so I happily settled for (and suggested) “friend activities” with him, which he sincerely appreciated. But he was usually unavailable. He always left TONY promptly to go home when Happy Hour (7-9pm) ended. I never met his partner.
Finally, he invited me for an afternoon of shopping (for tight leather pants) and luncheon. The best parts of that sunny afternoon were our conversations… and watching him change pants, over and over, in different stores. We had fun together; it was easy-going and natural.
However, weeks earlier, I agreed to meet another young man—who was interested in going on a first date with me—during the evening of that same day. I was frustrated at Fate for the scheduling conflict, but I figured that there must be a reason that I was meeting two people on the same day. I spent as much time with my "crush" as possible and savored every moment! After several hours of fun, 5:30 pm arrived, and I departed for my evening date.
As I said Goodbye, my crush invited me to join him browsing The Strand Bookstore. I could've ditched the other guy and stayed alongside this man. But I didn't. Afraid to do any wrong to anybody for fear of more bad karma, I politely declined, because I wanted to be considerate to the other fellow—who was expecting me to meet him soon. I didn't tell my crush that I was going on a date. I assuredly told him that I had immense fun and looked forward to seeing him again very soon. Warm hug and kisses on the cheek. I could feel energy between us.
If I had known that it was to be my LAST time with my crush, I would’ve ditched the other guy for him! Looking back, I wonder if that was a cruel Life Test, with me not knowing that I had only one chance to choose, and I merely did what was decent and maintained my agreed-upon "dinner date". The second guy was no comparison to my crush. Thus, I longed to hang out with my (still partnered-thus-unavailable) crush again. But he was repeatedly busy after that, and I only saw him (less and less) at TONY. Each time, he was still obligated to go home as soon as Happy Hour was over. He didn't have time for any more social interaction.
Finally, he invited me for an afternoon of shopping (for tight leather pants) and luncheon. The best parts of that sunny afternoon were our conversations… and watching him change pants, over and over, in different stores. We had fun together; it was easy-going and natural.
However, weeks earlier, I agreed to meet another young man—who was interested in going on a first date with me—during the evening of that same day. I was frustrated at Fate for the scheduling conflict, but I figured that there must be a reason that I was meeting two people on the same day. I spent as much time with my "crush" as possible and savored every moment! After several hours of fun, 5:30 pm arrived, and I departed for my evening date.
As I said Goodbye, my crush invited me to join him browsing The Strand Bookstore. I could've ditched the other guy and stayed alongside this man. But I didn't. Afraid to do any wrong to anybody for fear of more bad karma, I politely declined, because I wanted to be considerate to the other fellow—who was expecting me to meet him soon. I didn't tell my crush that I was going on a date. I assuredly told him that I had immense fun and looked forward to seeing him again very soon. Warm hug and kisses on the cheek. I could feel energy between us.
If I had known that it was to be my LAST time with my crush, I would’ve ditched the other guy for him! Looking back, I wonder if that was a cruel Life Test, with me not knowing that I had only one chance to choose, and I merely did what was decent and maintained my agreed-upon "dinner date". The second guy was no comparison to my crush. Thus, I longed to hang out with my (still partnered-thus-unavailable) crush again. But he was repeatedly busy after that, and I only saw him (less and less) at TONY. Each time, he was still obligated to go home as soon as Happy Hour was over. He didn't have time for any more social interaction.
With no other suitors in sight, I accepted another date with that “second” fellow. His name was Corey.
Incidentally, Corey hated TONY Lounge and never wanted to go there. A week after my third date with Corey, I was unaccompanied at TONY and my crush announced quietly that he was separating from his partner and was tragically upset. No, he didn't want to socialize in a soothing or platonic way with me, and I reluctantly understood. Weeks later, I saw him at Iridium Jazz Club, and I invited him to have dinner, at his convenience. He sadly declined, indicating that he needed more time.
Also sadly, he was terrible at staying connected; he usually didn't reply to my texts or messages on Facebook until days later. I often initiated text messages or emails, but I got simple replies. I mailed him "free shirt coupons" from my store, with a nifty note offering to go shopping with him at one of the city stores. No reply. I ran out of excuses to reach out to him. Then, he moved out of the country, to spend time with his family... who lived on another continent, south of the Equator, on the other side of the globe: Australia.
Incidentally, Corey hated TONY Lounge and never wanted to go there. A week after my third date with Corey, I was unaccompanied at TONY and my crush announced quietly that he was separating from his partner and was tragically upset. No, he didn't want to socialize in a soothing or platonic way with me, and I reluctantly understood. Weeks later, I saw him at Iridium Jazz Club, and I invited him to have dinner, at his convenience. He sadly declined, indicating that he needed more time.
Also sadly, he was terrible at staying connected; he usually didn't reply to my texts or messages on Facebook until days later. I often initiated text messages or emails, but I got simple replies. I mailed him "free shirt coupons" from my store, with a nifty note offering to go shopping with him at one of the city stores. No reply. I ran out of excuses to reach out to him. Then, he moved out of the country, to spend time with his family... who lived on another continent, south of the Equator, on the other side of the globe: Australia.
Years later, he returned and moved into a Hell's Kitchen apartment. Despite occasional Facebook messaging, he never actually accepted an offer to see me. I might never know what thoughts, emotions, or intuition he dealt with. Thanks
to the Universe, of course, he
couldn’t be thrust into my path again (like the losers and troublemakers) and couldn’t be encouraged to contact me or
reply. I always regretted not joining him at the bookstore—even if it would've been indecent to Corey (who probably deserved it, as you'll soon find out). Thus, my life continued without him.
As my life with Corey soured, I got upset with the Universe for easily introducing me to every crack-pot, lunatic, user, and con-man (like Isaac, my GM boss, the customers from Great Neck, my ex-restaurant bosses, the lying bank teller, that loudmouth old man at the bar, the useless physic, flippant sex partners, and Corey)—then making it nearly impossible for me to connect with a person that my soul truly linked with.
As my life with Corey soured, I got upset with the Universe for easily introducing me to every crack-pot, lunatic, user, and con-man (like Isaac, my GM boss, the customers from Great Neck, my ex-restaurant bosses, the lying bank teller, that loudmouth old man at the bar, the useless physic, flippant sex partners, and Corey)—then making it nearly impossible for me to connect with a person that my soul truly linked with.
One ray of sunshine
struck when my unmotivated lawyer said that he finally cleared away the felony charges! The felony was reduced to a misdemeanor, then pled down to Disorderly Conduct, which was not criminal. My lawyer advised me to plead guilty to that small infraction, and the matter would be concluded. He also gave startling news about the home-owner's insurance check that started the whole mess.
Unbeknownst to me, the $3,000 insurance money in my frozen HSBC bank account was wired back to the insurance company, who—along with HSBC—dropped the fraud charges against me. (The bank never returned my calls). My lawyer said the insurance company reissued the Homeowners’ check... and somehow—now without my required signature—my mother cashed it... which was illegal, since I was still on the policy. My mother did exactly the same thing that I did (putting a name on the check). It was clearly more illegal than my error (I merely followed my bank's instructions)! But my lawyer refused to help me in that matter. He told me to ignore it and move on with my life. I couldn't afford—or mentally handle—another legal battle, anyway.
Unbeknownst to me, the $3,000 insurance money in my frozen HSBC bank account was wired back to the insurance company, who—along with HSBC—dropped the fraud charges against me. (The bank never returned my calls). My lawyer said the insurance company reissued the Homeowners’ check... and somehow—now without my required signature—my mother cashed it... which was illegal, since I was still on the policy. My mother did exactly the same thing that I did (putting a name on the check). It was clearly more illegal than my error (I merely followed my bank's instructions)! But my lawyer refused to help me in that matter. He told me to ignore it and move on with my life. I couldn't afford—or mentally handle—another legal battle, anyway.
With everything finally settled (everybody got their $hare, except me),
my lawyer brought me before the judge and argued that the case was never anything more than a year-long family feud. The
judge asked me if I "learned a lesson". I had.
Despite his health impediments, Joe and his wife helped me during that final "court appearance day". They
picked me up and drove me triumphantly to the courthouse. Afterwards, I called my
mother to indicate that things were finally settled. She kept her reply
brief, probably didn't care, and she hasn't answered my calls since then.
I paid additional “court fees” of $400. Giving an envelope of
cash to my attorney for the last time, I finally felt some relief.
It was almost Mother's Day… a complex day for many gay individuals. Some of them have their moms crying with pride: some about how they found true love; others toward the "newly-legalized" possibility of grandkids. Another portion are crying because their moms disowned them. As for me, I recalled the Arts & Crafts that I made as a schoolboy… always so happy to give my mother. I recalled the first earrings I saved up money to buy her from Macy's. I remembered the "breakfasts in bed" I made her, the flowers I grew for her, the brunches I took her to, and the Broadway shows that I chauffeured her to. Those are the fond memories that make me smile. But I am one of the guys disowned by his mother for being who I am... and she chose to mentally and financially swindle me.
I lashed out at my roommate, Ron, when I learned that he tried to use Joe to
help him do cold-calling for his business… and then Ron hadn't paid him but,
instead, berated Joe's performance. Joe confided in me that he thought
Ron took anti-mood and anti-depression medicine, and without an income, Ron suffered without it. I was also peeved at Ron for forgetting to turn off
the sink when he got distracted by a phone call, thus allowing it to overflow and leak water into the
apartment beneath us!
I was also strained
by my landlord’s insistence that I pay off my debts to him—above the usual rent. When I finally declared that my debt was paid off, my landlord told me I was wrong. Like a crook, he looked me in the eye and denied ever
having agreed to such a thing. According to his records, I still owed him money!!! All of my work had been for nothing—swindled from me. That was "the last straw"; I had had enough! Isaac wasn’t expecting the mild-mannered, suit salesman "fag" do look him dead in the eye and verbally rip him apart, so it shocked him. When I left Isaac's home, the
“servitude” was over, I demanded the heat be turned up in my apartment, and he wouldn't get money beyond the regular rent for his code-breaking apartment!Folks who heard my stories consoled me, "Well, at least you've learned what NOT to do by watching the people who've taken advantage of you." What?! Why say that? It seems to be WORKING for all of them! They all got away with it: my restaurant bosses, corporate middle managers, the closeted boys who ended up with girls, my landlord, the lawyers, pastor, my family, lazy coworker, folks who casually discarded their lovers, my self-centered store managers, scheming customers, our aloof company owner, and the boys who lied to me/used me (when they could've been honest).
It was the same story: people were
allowed by the Universe to make my life a living hell. In fact, they were ushered right into my orbit so I couldn't avoid them. I didn't choose Isaac over another landlord: he had been the only option. I didn't choose to waste my money on that high rent. I didn't choose to stay working for my GM, instead of taking another job offer: all my job-seeking efforts failed. I hadn't chosen my lawyer. When I was told by the bank to write my mother's name on a check, the result cost me all of my money, got me arrested, and got me kicked out of home. I hadn't chosen to stay living at home: my mother double-crossed me about re-selling our house... and lied/scared away prospective people in life. The people I chose: roommates, lovers, friends, my crushes... either left my orbit, or they stayed but came with tragedy.
Over and over, I expected angels to appear and defend me, saying, “Ken, you have been severely taken advantage of. You’ve been innocently doing what was right. We shall now save you! You’ve earned ‘delivery from evil’. We will rescue you from these parasites and leaches, and elevate you to safety!” But, that didn’t happen. My good deeds were going down the drain. It was just my luck to be funneled into the path of bad people. Torture. At least in prison, you know everyone is against you and you mentally "shut down". It's more torturous in real life, because you HAVE TO interact with people each day, and in my case, random people were constantly crazy, hurtful, or thieving... while the good ones didn't stay.
Yet, I was feeling better for finally standing up for myself with Isaac and Ron!
Over and over, I expected angels to appear and defend me, saying, “Ken, you have been severely taken advantage of. You’ve been innocently doing what was right. We shall now save you! You’ve earned ‘delivery from evil’. We will rescue you from these parasites and leaches, and elevate you to safety!” But, that didn’t happen. My good deeds were going down the drain. It was just my luck to be funneled into the path of bad people. Torture. At least in prison, you know everyone is against you and you mentally "shut down". It's more torturous in real life, because you HAVE TO interact with people each day, and in my case, random people were constantly crazy, hurtful, or thieving... while the good ones didn't stay.
Yet, I was feeling better for finally standing up for myself with Isaac and Ron!
Meanwhile, I got acquainted with Corey. He was born in Hong Kong—when it was still a British Crown Colony.
He was educated in England. His legal name was Geoffrey; he also had a Chinese name that he didn’t use. In addition, his "aspiring singer/stage name" was something else. A week later, Corey expressed curiosity to see where I lived. Ron arrived home, and Corey invited him to join us for dinner. Because he lived far away in Astoria, I was happy to let Corey sleep overnight at my place, just as I did with Mark.
During that time, Ron worked from home, making cold-calls and customer service calls. He was "strapped for cash" and stayed home every night. Corey claimed never to be comfortable to have sex in my home, due to Ron's proximity. Oral fun was as far as it got. Corey said that he preferred sleeping at my place, instead of vice versa, because it made my commute to work easier. As he began staying over more frequently, I started letting him sleep late, instead of always leaving with me, early in the morning.
Many times, Ron awoke and forgot that Corey was still there. I was shocked when Corey reported that Ron talked to himself, kicked things during tantrums, and even yelled at himself. Corey began “staying” in my room during some daytimes, on the pretense of keeping Ron out of it. Ron began calling me at work, indicating his fear that Corey was “up to no good” on my computer (which might explain the two times my computer got seriously infected with viruses, during the year. Thanks Universe.)
Corey made accusations that Ron used improper sexual jokes/touches, which Ron could not easily deny. Therefore, I chose to believe Corey, and began to think—coupled with what Joe told me—that Ron was becoming mentally unhinged, perhaps near a breakdown. What fun to imagine such things as you return home after work each day! Ron’s long-winded phone calls plagued Joe and myself (Joe played me the voicemail messages), as Ron vented all his problems. Joe didn't want to be involved with Ron and complained to me about him.
During that time, Ron worked from home, making cold-calls and customer service calls. He was "strapped for cash" and stayed home every night. Corey claimed never to be comfortable to have sex in my home, due to Ron's proximity. Oral fun was as far as it got. Corey said that he preferred sleeping at my place, instead of vice versa, because it made my commute to work easier. As he began staying over more frequently, I started letting him sleep late, instead of always leaving with me, early in the morning.
Many times, Ron awoke and forgot that Corey was still there. I was shocked when Corey reported that Ron talked to himself, kicked things during tantrums, and even yelled at himself. Corey began “staying” in my room during some daytimes, on the pretense of keeping Ron out of it. Ron began calling me at work, indicating his fear that Corey was “up to no good” on my computer (which might explain the two times my computer got seriously infected with viruses, during the year. Thanks Universe.)
Corey made accusations that Ron used improper sexual jokes/touches, which Ron could not easily deny. Therefore, I chose to believe Corey, and began to think—coupled with what Joe told me—that Ron was becoming mentally unhinged, perhaps near a breakdown. What fun to imagine such things as you return home after work each day! Ron’s long-winded phone calls plagued Joe and myself (Joe played me the voicemail messages), as Ron vented all his problems. Joe didn't want to be involved with Ron and complained to me about him.
Simultaneously, Corey began his habit of making long-winded phone
calls to me to vent his problems, and to tell me how to improve
myself. So many complaints in my ear! Too much drama!
It never made sense to me. Unlike people who crave "drama" in their lives, or watch countless hours of drama on Reality TV shows like "Judge Judy", "Jerry Springer", "Real Housewives", or soap operas, I only want positive energy in my life. Those other people should be attracting real-life drama/complaints/cat-fights into their lives via "laws of attraction". Not me. I guess the Universe felt that I needed long-winded complaining people in my life—day and night.
Another circumstance should have been a “warning alarm” about Corey. When he discovered that we had mutual “Facebook friends”, he went ballistic! He demanded that I remove them as friends! He claimed that they were "terrible people who ruined the lives of couples"—that they would say nasty things about him. He even phoned his ever-present “lifeline” Bob (an older gay man who worked for the city and seemed to be at Corey’s "beck and call") to have him testify on speakerphone what bad things those “Facebook friends” did... and could do. Since they weren’t true friends of mine, I deleted them. If I hadn’t, I might’ve learned earlier about Corey’s double life.
It never made sense to me. Unlike people who crave "drama" in their lives, or watch countless hours of drama on Reality TV shows like "Judge Judy", "Jerry Springer", "Real Housewives", or soap operas, I only want positive energy in my life. Those other people should be attracting real-life drama/complaints/cat-fights into their lives via "laws of attraction". Not me. I guess the Universe felt that I needed long-winded complaining people in my life—day and night.
Another circumstance should have been a “warning alarm” about Corey. When he discovered that we had mutual “Facebook friends”, he went ballistic! He demanded that I remove them as friends! He claimed that they were "terrible people who ruined the lives of couples"—that they would say nasty things about him. He even phoned his ever-present “lifeline” Bob (an older gay man who worked for the city and seemed to be at Corey’s "beck and call") to have him testify on speakerphone what bad things those “Facebook friends” did... and could do. Since they weren’t true friends of mine, I deleted them. If I hadn’t, I might’ve learned earlier about Corey’s double life.
Corey began an
annoying habit of insisting that—when I got home from work—I immediately went with him on the 30-minute additional bus ride to Flushing, to buy cheaper (and
coincidentally Chinese) groceries—then carry them on the bus back to
Bayside. Just what I wanted after
my long "standing-room only" commute from an exhaustive / belittling job! Then, Fate stepped in again.
Some people get jobs in SoHo for failing at their current roles, some
get celebrity chef dates on TV shows, some get NY Times lifelines. I got a letter from the City of New York, apparently
replying to a plea that supposedly came from me that I was living in an illegal
apartment. My landlord got one,
too, and he was terrified. He finally
confessed that he never paid Chris the money, so Chris might've carried
out his threat—but under my name. (Or Corey's buddy who worked for the city did it). My landlord now NEEDED me to sign a document, assuring the city that someone used my name and that I was perfectly happy. I hated Isaac, so I declined. Ron was fearful that a city agency would come and shut-down the illegal apartments. He began looking for a new place to live. It meant that I had to vacate before the end of the month and find a new place!
I was overwhelmed by the new catastrophe ahead of me: finding a new home AND moving! I was desperate for help. I needed to have enough money for an anticipated "first & last month's rent and one-month security deposit" that a new apartment might require. I needed money for movers. Thus, I could not take "time off" from work. But I needed time to hunt for affordable apartments that didn't check credit scores or demand to see bank balances. It was exhausting to think about!
I began searching throughout Queens. My next home needed to be near the bus routes—and preferably near a subway. I needed boxes to pack things, so I took some from the shipping guys at work and carried them home on the bus. If the circumstances ONCE AGAIN hadn't happened so cataclysmically / unexpectedly fast, I might've had time to make better, more-calculated decisions. As it happened, Corey swiftly filled the void and inserted himself in my life to "rescue" me. But of course, the Universe didn't put someone in my life just to truly help me; it coupled me with another person who wanted to use me. (Thanks, Universe).
Spending daytimes on my computer, Corey looked for new apartments for me, leaving Ron to fend for himself. Ron announced that he intended to move back to Chicago to stay with his friends who were "eager to help him get back on his feet". How great for him. I wished that I had such friends. Under the pretense of keeping Ron under surveillance, Corey practically lived in my room and did "apartment hunting" for me while I was at work.
(A year later, Ron emailed me, saying that he successfully moved back to Chicago, got a nice-salaried job with a company that competed against his old one. His new office was almost eye-level with his old office. He sent pictures of his amazingly lovely apartment, right near the park and lake. He rejoined a church and was making friends. He included pictures of the dinner parties he hosted with other gay men. Friends got him involved in LGBT professional networking groups. His new bosses were generous to him. Their end-of-year party involved a dinner at a swank restaurant, then a surprise limousine ride to a show. During winter, his bosses took him to a corporate retreat at a Fairmont hotel. Ron admitted that my advice and encouragement was immeasurably helpful to him during our time in Bayside, and it cemented his friendship with me. He always remembered my efforts to get him moved in, bolster his downtrodden morale, help him learn social media, dating tips, and our late-night chats. I helped him learn to accept advice. His friends warned and beseeched him not to move to NYC, but he ignored them and paid the price. I replied that nobody warned me before my major decisions, and I paid the prices for those errors, too. I preferred the warnings AND the kind of help that I gave out. We are still distant friends).
I was overwhelmed by the new catastrophe ahead of me: finding a new home AND moving! I was desperate for help. I needed to have enough money for an anticipated "first & last month's rent and one-month security deposit" that a new apartment might require. I needed money for movers. Thus, I could not take "time off" from work. But I needed time to hunt for affordable apartments that didn't check credit scores or demand to see bank balances. It was exhausting to think about!
I began searching throughout Queens. My next home needed to be near the bus routes—and preferably near a subway. I needed boxes to pack things, so I took some from the shipping guys at work and carried them home on the bus. If the circumstances ONCE AGAIN hadn't happened so cataclysmically / unexpectedly fast, I might've had time to make better, more-calculated decisions. As it happened, Corey swiftly filled the void and inserted himself in my life to "rescue" me. But of course, the Universe didn't put someone in my life just to truly help me; it coupled me with another person who wanted to use me. (Thanks, Universe).
Spending daytimes on my computer, Corey looked for new apartments for me, leaving Ron to fend for himself. Ron announced that he intended to move back to Chicago to stay with his friends who were "eager to help him get back on his feet". How great for him. I wished that I had such friends. Under the pretense of keeping Ron under surveillance, Corey practically lived in my room and did "apartment hunting" for me while I was at work.
(A year later, Ron emailed me, saying that he successfully moved back to Chicago, got a nice-salaried job with a company that competed against his old one. His new office was almost eye-level with his old office. He sent pictures of his amazingly lovely apartment, right near the park and lake. He rejoined a church and was making friends. He included pictures of the dinner parties he hosted with other gay men. Friends got him involved in LGBT professional networking groups. His new bosses were generous to him. Their end-of-year party involved a dinner at a swank restaurant, then a surprise limousine ride to a show. During winter, his bosses took him to a corporate retreat at a Fairmont hotel. Ron admitted that my advice and encouragement was immeasurably helpful to him during our time in Bayside, and it cemented his friendship with me. He always remembered my efforts to get him moved in, bolster his downtrodden morale, help him learn social media, dating tips, and our late-night chats. I helped him learn to accept advice. His friends warned and beseeched him not to move to NYC, but he ignored them and paid the price. I replied that nobody warned me before my major decisions, and I paid the prices for those errors, too. I preferred the warnings AND the kind of help that I gave out. We are still distant friends).
* Too see when I encountered Ron again, on better terms, please use this link:
It was amazing how Life delivered Ron to me—just in time for his meltdown—and now that I was away from him, Life reinstated him to prosperity—just like with Chris. Funny, how Fate kept letting me know that folks from my past were doing so well, while I wasn’t.
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