What sparked this update were numerous run-ins I've had over time with overly aggressive and obsessed patrons, primarily at The Cock. But one recent run-in is someone you need to be warned of.
He's over 6 feet tall. Light-complexion Black or Latino with a goatee. His hair length can be described as that of a small afro if he's Black. And since I admit to being a lousy judge of age, I'll say that he's probably late 20's to late 30's. Also, on both occasions, he was wearing a polo shirt and loose fitting jeans. Any artist that comes up with a composite from that, email it to me, and if you're right, I'll edit this post to include it. Because after you read this, you'll see this guy is someone to be cautious of.
I have repeatedly said that my ventures into a backroom are more about observing sexual behavior. Hooking up should it happen, is just a fringe benefit to it. And this night was no different.
I went into the backroom area of The Cock shirtless. My being shirtless plays an important role later, so take a mental note of it. While I was back there, the guy I described earlier pulled on my jeans mumbling desperately, "Let me get a feel! Let me get a feel!"
He pulled on the waist of my jeans so hard that the hard cotton seam in between the legs of my jeans was uncomfortably digging into the center of my perineum. Almost like a wedgie, which digs at the sides. After this, I walked away from him, and out of the backroom area. He followed me. Everywhere I went, he followed me. I went over to the DJ, and they saw me yelling at him. After this, to avoid a violent reaction like the last obsessed nutcase evolved into, I went to the front to security. Security told us to stay away from each other. Not a problem on my end since that's what I've been trying to do all along. The guy tried "apologizing" to me in front of security, claiming he misunderstood. What was there to misunderstand?! I said NO! Mainly because he tried to pull my jeans off of me by pulling them through my crotch and over my fuckin' head! Plus anyone with sense knows that his "apology" was all a show for security.
The problem is he didn't stay away from me. He stalked me for the rest of the night. Staying a "safe" distance away.
I once reviewed. Since the exhibitionism of The Cock allows it, I was walking around in the sling outfit pictured on the left. I went in the bathroom putting my pants back on at one point. And saw someone standing in front of me.
It was him again.
He actually tried talking to me asking me how I was doing, like all was cool between us. Well because of our last encounter, I was not entertaining this obviously socially inept dipshit's attempt at conversation. Then he decided to ask a question that caused blast after blast from me towards him...
He said, "Why don't you want to talk to me?"
I paused, and began seething with anger at him having the fuck-faced audacity and his being so socially inept that he would ask me that question considering his behavior towards me during our 1st encounter. Behavior that gave me a taste of what a rape feels like. So I told myself that he doesn't deserve my diplomacy. Hence why I replied to him,... "Because you're a FUCKIN' ASSHOLE!"
He then continued trying to "explain his side". Then he went back to that crap he said before saying, "I misunderstood, and I apologized to you."
I told him, "I don't care at this point. Because if you did that to me once, then I'm sure you did it to someone else."
Then if this fucktard hadn't already shown himself to be dumber than a bucket of rocks, he made it worst by doing the oldest trick in the book a sex offender does to avoid taking responsibility for their actions. He said, "Well, you were walking around here in your underwear. So what was I suppose to think?"
My seething at that point should have had my mouth foaming. I said, "That does not justify you grabbing on me the way you did."
Keep in mind that in this exhcange me an him are talking about the 1st encounter, and not me at that moment. Which if you recall in that 1st encounter, I was not in my underwear. I was instead shirtless. My point is that if you're going to try avoid taking responsibility for your lack of self-control by blaming my exhibitionism, then keep the facts straight as to how much exhibitionism I actually displayed.
This did not end there. I was kneeling down pulling my jeans over my shoe. And though as much as I have made my lack of interest known, what does he do next?...He tries to close the bathroom door. Now, I might not be a trained dancer, but I can move like one. So I leaned over on one hand, and kicked the door out of his hand, and it went back slamming against the wall, which he found amusing. Then a patron walked in. So now you should be wondering, what would he have done, or tried to do if he had I not stopped him from closing that door?
Some might think I should have some fear considering his size over me. Well if I had any, I wasn't feeling it. For if I had any fear of him, it was greatly replaced by rage and overshadowed by another fear. Fear of myself. For one of my greatest fears is my dark side surfacing. You may have read of its surfacing on one and two prior occasions. And I will attack like an animal in the wild in protecting my personal space. So when that personal space is my body - it's understandable that not only can I become verbally and physically violent, but actually homicidal. And your adult age, size, or gender is of no importance as to how disposable you are, or my method in doing so.
After I left the bathroom, he continued following me. He sat on a bar stool next to me, and tried to continue talking to me. I exploded in front of the bartender, go-go boys, and other patrons looking him right in the eyes, which is actually quite dangerous for me to do. Knowing this is why I wrote this Facebook update with this old photo the next day:
With hindsight being 20/20, my lashing out in front of the bartender was my subconscience making sure my dark side didn't reach the violent stage it could easily reach at this point. Because I knew the bartender at the least would stop this, which he did. But again, it did not stop this guy's obsession.
Some of you are probably thinking that as a gay Black man at 42 years of age, I should be glad someone is that interested in me. Well, let me tell you, I'm not. I don't care how lonely you may be, no one should (or will) be happy with that kind of attention. For this guy shows all the signs of a potential rapist. That is if he hasn't raped someone(s) already. For as I told him when I didn't accept his supposed apology, "...if you did that to me once, then I'm sure you did it to someone else."
As you can see, I can handle myself in a situation. I am writing this because I know not everyone can. So for the sake of those who can't, until he gets some professional help that gets results, a red flag needs to go off if you see this guy approaching you. Composite artists, do your thing...