A close friend of ours is a gay male in his 40s. About seven
years ago, our friend met and briefly dated a not-too-bright, conniving
guy about 10 years younger. Our friend threw himself into this relationship
with his new "trophy husband" and did everything he could for his
new boyfriend. He financed his apartment, paid his numerous bills,
wrote his papers for school, and even purchased all the boyfriend's
holiday gifts—all the while keeping everything a secret so
the boyfriend could keep his big ego intact. After the boyfriend
was back on his feet with a new job, new wardrobe, new apartment,
and new furniture (courtesy of my friend), he dumped my friend and
was having sex with boys 10 to 15 years his junior.
Despite the terrible treatment he received, my friend does
everything he can to stay close to his ex. While our friend is doing
okay financially, he ended up mortgaging his home several times
to help bail his ex out of his self-inflicted financial problems.
For a long time, my friend wouldn't date anyone; he was keeping
himself free on the chance that his ex-boyfriend might want him
back one day. Years later, when my friend finally met someone and
started seriously dating, the old boyfriend quickly swooped in and
convinced my friend to end his new relationship.
This appears to be a never-ending cycle. My friend, despite
the fact that his ex still owes him thousands of dollars, continues
to buy him everything he can, as fast as he can—a new condo,
new furniture, and a new car. We love our friend and we want him
to be happy. However, he continues to be in denial about the situation.
He's always defending his ex. How do we help our friend move on
from this opportunistic user and finally cut the financial and emotional
cords once and for all?
Hard To Watch
How did that "God grant me wisdom" poem go? The one harried moms
taped to their refrigerators back in the '70s? Some 12-steppin'
horseshit about serenity or something? Oh yeah, here it is again,
thanks to Google: "God grant me the serenity to accept the things
I cannot change/The courage to change the things I can/And the wisdom
to know the difference."
Good advice in the '70s—good advice today.
So, HTW, you need to accept that—short of murder—there's
nothing you can do that will convince your idiot friend to cut those
financial and emotional cords. Your friend's behavior is pathetic,
his ex is beneath contempt, and you should refuse to play along.
When you're with your friend and his ex comes up, screw your courage
to the sticking place and say something like this: "He's a user,
you're a fool, change the subject."
And wise up, HTW. The more effort you go to, the more interventions
you stage, the more advice columnists you pester, the longer your
friend is going to cling to his ex-boyfriend. Your emotional investment
in his predicament is, without a doubt, feeding your friend's delusions.
And your efforts to stop him from being this boy's cash slave are
allowing him to mistake this pathetic, self-destructive attachment
for a grand, romantic drama—a drama in which he's playing
the hero, not the fool.
I am addressing this to both ŠAsk a Mexican! and Savage Love,
hoping one of you will have an answer to this: Why do Mexican chicks
yell for their papi during sex?
Daddy Del Diablo
"Dear Gabacho: Latinas calling men papi (daddy) during
sex or in day-to-day conversation is really more of a Caribbean
thing," says Gustavo Arellano, author of ŠAsk a Mexican!, "and my
column isn't called ŠAsk J.Lo! Then again, there was that chilanga
chula (hot-ass Mexico City chick) who'd whisper it whenever
the Mexican slipped her the chorizo… so let's answer your
pregunta. In Mexico, as in the rest of Latin America, fathers
stand atop the machismo mountaintop. They're the hombres who allow
or deny a daughter permission to marry or leave the household, the
man that wives must tend to and sons respect, fear, and follow.
Dads earned such a place in Mexico gracias to the cultures
of Catholicism, the Conquest, and the Aztecs—all governed
by males who considered women little more than birth canals. Mix
the three societies together, add some Freudian and Oedipal impulses,
and you're left with some fucked-up sexual mores that a half-century
of Chicana feminism and modernity have yet to eradicate. But, hey:
Better your brown lady yell 'papi' during coitus than 'ŠAy, chiquito
gabacho!' ¿Qué no?"
To read my response to Daddy Del Diablo's question, you'll have
to swing over to www.ocweekly.com/columns/ask-a-mexican.Got
a questions for Gustavo? You can e-mail him directly at themexican@askamexican.net.
Well hello there, Mr. Savage. I'm the woman who had that boy
tied up in my bedroom during a party this summer. I knew that one
of my guests happened upon him before I read your column last week,
because he told me about it. I wish I knew which one of my guests
it was—I was hosting my firm's summer barbecue on my deck
and there were a lot of people here—because I would like to
thank her for not calling the police!
Do your readers want the rest of the story? I'm sure they do.
The boy is not quite half my age: He's 21, I'm 38. He worked at
a Starbucks in my office building. He noticed me noticing him, we
flirted a bit, and then one night I ran into him in a bar. We ditched
our respective friends, and slipped out to get a drink together.
At the next bar, he asked me if I was married. I told him I
was recently divorced, having waited way too long to DTMFA. I asked
him if he wanted to fool around. He said yes (actually he said "fuck,
yeah!"), but our age difference was an issue for him. I promised
to obey the "campsite rule," i.e., I would leave him in better shape
than I found him (no broken hearts, no diseases, no unwanted babies).
That's when he told me that he was submissive and into bondage and
S&M. He offered to fulfill any fantasies I might have, telling
me he was GGG. It was then that we realized we had been speaking
entirely in Savage Love code.
He's been reading your column since he was 15, and says you're
the reason he can be so open about his kinks. I've been reading
you since I was 29, and you're the reason I wasn't shocked by his
kinks. We had oodles of fun this summer—which included, yes,
me keeping him tied up in my bedroom while other people were in
my apartment. And we have you to thank, Dan!
Budding Fem Dom
P.S. Provided neither of us is seriously dating anyone by then,
we're planning on getting together around Christmas. And no more
leaving him tied up alone, I promise! And the woman who "accidentally"
found him while looking for the bathroom? She had to walk past two
bathrooms before she got to the one nearest my bedroom. She was
snooping!
You're welcome, BFD, and thanks for sharing.
A new Savage Lovecast (my podcast) is available
for download every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage