So, naturally I made a hasty retreat, and avoided church for about two weeks, I mean, after all, what do you say to a priest after you've gone down on him? Certainly you don't discuss the weather, right? When we finally did bump into each other after Mass one Sunday, we engaged in light banter. I was glad the homily had not been about the 6th commandmaent! LOL! I do remember being very careful to check for his car in the parking lot next to the Club Baths for months after that initial run-in. Years later, in seminary, when he was a teacher, we actually laughed about it, when we were alone, of course!
In all, I would guess I spent a little over a year, maybe a year and a half basically being a full time hustler. I don't think I was proud of it, but I don't remember being ashamed. I guess I really never thought about it, until my friend Bill invited me to spend a weekend with some of his friends at a place called Presentation College, off Highway 17, south of Los Gatos, in the hills above Santa Cruz. It was the perfect place for God to set me up, and so He did.
Bill knew all about me. He had, on occasion had to pick me up from one place or another in the City, usually to dump me off at my aunt's house. Her daughter had been his best friend in high school, so what he knew, she knew. Anyway, one friday in May or late April, he had arranged to pick me up from some bar in the Castro, on the pretext of treating me to dinner. While we were eating, he asked me if I would like to go to the mountains for a few days, "No big thing, but I bet it beats slumming in the Castro for the weekend." So I said sure, and off we went, to what would become my future. I figured I might meet some guys, have a few laughs, and hey who knows, it was worth a shot.
It was getting dark by the time we got there, and Bill suggested hitting the hay early. I wanted to "explore", but I also did not want to argue, so I agreed to the early bed idea, found my room, laid down, and woke up early to sunlight and bird calls floating through the window opposite the bed. I figured this was a good time to check out the place, before Bill got a hold of me. So I found my way outside, and began looking around. I walked up to one end of the building, turned the corner, and there he was, my priest. Trying desparately to act nonchalant, I smiled and said "hey,
what's up?" I will always remember him looking at me, smiling, no, maybe he was smirking a bit, as he said, "the jig!" After we got some coffee, I learned that Bill, my cousin Maryann, and this priest, who all knew each other, had decided I needed to be off the streets. So they connived to get me to a weekend vocation retreat. I remember thinking how badly I wanted a drink, Johnny Walker Black, on the rock's, and no fu**ing bar anywhere. Long story short, I ended up beingchallenged to make a change in my life. They talked me into applying to a college in Mtn. View, starting over as a
Freshmen, and so I could only get up to the city on weekends, but after five days of classes, those weekends got really wild. In four years, I missed maybe twelve weekends in the City, hitting every bar in the Castro and /or the Polk "strasse" and slumming with my old buds. I got real good at changing from street clothes to leather or hustler garb in the back of my little Bobcat. But, I noticed, things, even people, in the City seemed to be changing somehow.
But while I was busy doing "my thing", someone else was busy, in the background, slowly changing me too, and at first, I didn't even notice.
