Remy: Even the First Beefcake Has Scars

Heads up: this chapter deals with nightlife, sex and the AIDS years. For grown-ups.

Remy was scarred.

Remy made his way through the long hall and down the narrow stairs into the dark maze of tunnels in the basement wonderland of the warehouse club in Queens, NY. The smell of the underbelly of New York gay nightlife wafted through the halls- sweat, alcohol, poppers and generic cleaning supplies, unmistakable to anyone who frequented bars and clubs. In the dim light, bare asses were on display for the taking. Male bodies on top of male bodies, turning and flipping, up and down, almost like a choreographed routine, filled the various catacombs. Moans and groans of sexual satisfaction rose above the music trailing down from the upstairs dance floor. Remy heard someone yell “Yes, daddy, harder daddy…I’m your good boy.” Someone else grunted, “Oh yes, just like that, baby!” He was aroused immediately, his curiosity piqued. As he kept moving a sense of freedom, and then astonishment hit him…which quickly turned to dread, anxiety and nausea. He was witnessing the resurgence of the sexual freedom that started in the mid-60s that revved up in the 70s but was squashed by the onset of the HIV/AIDS crisis in the late 70s and early ‘80s. Having survived that horrific period, having witnessed the pain our brothers and sisters endured, having lost friends and lovers, and our time to be young and adventurous, one couldn’t help but be scarred. Remy was scarred.

Remy grew up during this devastating time in our history. It changed everything: people’s thinking about LGBTQ+ people, the fearmongering, the blame and the intense stigma directed at us. Thanks to Larry Kramer and the ACT UP organization in 1987, advocacy and perceptions slowly started to change, extremely slowly. In the early days there were so many open questions about sex - How was the disease transmitted? Did you need to wear a condom to have oral sex? Do you even risk having anal sex- at all? What if a condom broke? What about kissing- Am I at risk for kissing someone of the same sex? It was a dizzying, scary and extremely personal time for gays coming of age and trying to figure out their queerness, now linked to this dark period forever. It had a lasting impact on Remy and his generation.

The epidemic hit Remy hard and turned his standards into a locked, heavy steel door, that not many could break through. He lost his first real boyfriend to that mad disease, they ended their relationship long before, but he was Remy’s first and they were still close when he passed. Remy was there through his ex’s disease, which ravaged him and summoned him into death, unrecognizable to anyone who knew the vibrant, muscular athlete of his youth. Remy will never forget this time in his life. It’s still too painful for him to talk about, sort of like 9/11 is for many New Yorkers.

Remy had standards long before the epidemic and they could close him off to being more adventurous. One of his biggest pet peeves was unwelcome touching, grabbing and kissing, on the dance floor or on the rare occasion he would step into a dark room. It was often made worse by the ones that kept coming back, as if they would get lucky on the fourth or fifth try. For Remy it was the same each time. He saw their “green demon face, drooling, fangs popping out from a creepy smile, ready to bite him, one eye looking at his mouth the other looking at his crotch” It didn’t matter what those handsy, touchy, ghouls actually looked like, Remy saw their sex demon and it wasn’t pretty. This would happen to Remy pretty much anywhere he went; the dance floor, parties, work, the grocery store, even the Macy’s bathroom.

Knowing this, it is easy to understand why, at this moment, he could not process what he was seeing. To him it was carelessness and disregard for the past and everything we had been through. What about respect for yourself and your body? he thought. He needed to feel a connection bigger than this. He didn’t understand how one could allow a total stranger to enter them, without even having a conversation. It was now a time of no condoms and raw was the way to go for most gays. He agreed, it was “sooooooo much better”, but he was always responsible- being tested, talking to partners about each other’s status. He remembered a time when you might have been asked to show your test results to potential partners. With PrEP, it was a huge shift in the way people viewed sex. Remy thought, maybe this just isn’t for me. He looked at his phone, 5 missed calls from Bruno…” Of course,” He was probably on the other side of the dance floor at this point. It was 3:00 AM. It’s a good time to call it a night, he thought. It’s raining outside and he wasn’t feeling this scene tonight. He knew in his heart of hearts- he wouldn’t be finding anything that he would be missing tomorrow. He had to get a car back to Chelsea anyway. It was time for an Irish goodbye; he learned the Irish goodbye at a young age from his mom.

His mom raised him to be a good man: charitable, courteous, respectful to women and to have respect for himself. She put high standards on him and then there were the ones he put on himself. He was also a confident Leo, after all, and he couldn’t help but think it was beneath anyone to just grab someone or behave that way. Apparently not, he thought “well it should be.” He was considered a classic, good looking masculine guy, muscular and athletic from wrestling in high school and college. He was what most would call a beefcake. The girls and women who met him would say “You’re gay? No way. I never would have guessed.” Then came the inevitable next line so many gay men hear; “What a shame” or worse “What a waste”.

Let’s just stop here. Those words may have sounded harmless to the women saying them, but they carried an entire value judgment. Gayness is still being treated as the unfortunate part of an otherwise desirable man. You could be handsome, masculine, funny, successful, whatever qualified as desirable, but being gay somehow diminished the package. The insult wasn’t simply that a woman couldn't have you. It was the suggestion that your life, your relationships and the people you loved were somehow a lesser use of you- as if you’re wasting your life on the people you chose to be your friends, lovers and family.

Remy grabbed his new dark green suede coat. He just loved it so much and it happened to look amazing on him, with his dark black/brown hair and tan skin- even in the winter- and it made his green eyes stand out. Little things like wearing a new item you love made Remy happy. He smiled as he buttoned up, straightened the sleeves of his new coat and started to walk towards the door, when someone said, “Hey…excuse me.” Remy didn’t realize they were talking to him, Again, “Hello, excuse me, I’m talking to you with the green coat.”

He turned to find a really cute and sexy, muscular, blonde guy, shirtless of course. But Remy had already made up his mind that he was leaving and wasn’t in the mood to strike up a conversation. Plus blondes weren’t really his type, just a preference he had. So, he waved graciously and said “Sorry bud, I’m kind of in a rush.” The guy yelled back, “Why don’t you rush over to my place with me, I’m in a rush too- to get you home, you beefcake!” He had a huge smile, and he was cute and flirty, but Remy just wanted to get home so he said, “Maybe next time stud.” The blonde guy yelled back, “OK stud, I’ll be looking for you and I’ll hold you to it.” Remy turned, winked and smiled. He was very content leaving; it was as if he sensed there was someone very special about to enter his life that very evening.