17 St Phillip Street – Part Ten-

Art by Rob Goldstein

Paul asked everyone to dress up for the pissy dinner he had planned for Joe and Sandy.

Bobby pulled out a black silk shirt and squeezed into his tightest bells.

He wondered when he should he tell Paul that he and Joe had already done it?

Bobby would explain that he thought that if he brought Joe out, Joe would hook up with Paul.

But a part of Bobby disagreed.

It thought that Bobby’s motives were selfish and the conflict silenced Bobby.

Bobby wondered why he had to question everything.

Why was it so confusing to be Bobby?

He had to account for actions he couldn’t explain.

And there were the people who called him Bob.

People he didn’t know.

They were everywhere.

Who was Bob and why had Bobby never seen him?

Bobby brushed his teeth and tousled the unruly curls of his shoulder length hair.

Last week Maurice breezed home in a rush of excitement.

He had an LP by a guy named Cat Stevens.

“Miss Bobby!” Maurice screamed, “Look at him!” Maurice flipped open the cover and there was a portrait of Cat Stevens. “If You had a beard you’d be twins!”

Bobby smiled into the mirror and checked the progress of his beard: it was filling in nicely.


Maurice passed the joint to Bobby, “How nice that you’ve begun to understand something of the mean world we live in Haih Priestess!”

Bobby inhaled deeply, held his breath and exhaled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Miss Duchess of Northwoods!”

Maurice: “Not raising a stink at the navy yard about Nestor–they’d crucify you.”

Bobby coughed and passed the joint to Joe. “Nestor calls every night to tell me how much he loves me an’ how he’ll leave his wife and be a full-time fag for me. Dude follows me around like an old dog!”

Maurice: “You’re a man-trap miss, Bobby.”

Joe laughed and coughed and passed the joint to Sandy.

Paul strode into the room with a goblet of white wine for Sandy.

“Don’t be shy, Miss Jenny,”  Paul had Miss Jenny by the hand. “Miss Jenny is our landlady, Sandy.”

Miss Jenny took a long hard look at Sandy: “You sure got rosy cheeks! A girl with cheeks like that will have a passel of babies! Notice how Bobby’s got rosy cheeks too!”

“’’Cept I ain’t a girl Miss Jenny!”

Miss Jenny: “If you was I could marry you off.”

Everyone laughed.

Sandy took the goblet of wine and passed the joint to Paul.

“So Sandy,” Paul said, “You come all the way from Michigan. How do you like our decadent little town?”

Sandy: “Oh it’s just beautiful!”

Bobby: “Like a pretty little corpse.”

Paul: “Bobby hates Charleston.”

Bobby: “I don’t hate it, Paul! I just don’t like it!”

Sandy looked up at Paul: “Joe says you’re quite the cooker…I’ve heard that before about you people.”

Sandy decided that she’d arrived just in time to save Joe; she gazed shyly at Bobby and wondered if she should save him too.

Bobby fell silent as the words ‘you people’ sank in.

Miss Jenny: “Sandy is at least as pretty as you are Maurice!”

Maurice: “You can’t really compare a man and a woman, Miss Jenny.

Sandy: “I agree, regardless of how feminine a man is he’s still a man…in a way.”

Bobby’s expression got dark: “What’s that mean, ‘in a way?’”

Sandy: “I mean that men should be men and not women.

Bobby’s expression got darker: “You mean if I act feminine I’m a man…’kind of?’”

Sandy: “Forgive my bluntness, but that’s what queers are; you’re men that want to be women?”

Miss Jenny moved her chair forward and sat between Bobby and Sandy. “It’s nice you want Sandy to meet your friends, Joe.”

“Paul is special to me.” said Joe.

Maurice lit another joint and muttered.” Is that why you don’t put out.”

Bobby smiled sweetly at Maurice: “Oh Joe puts out–and he’s not normal….Oh no he ain’t, Sandy! He’s bigger ‘n most! An’ he can go all night! Ain’t that right, Joe?”

Sandy stared in shock at Joe.

Paul stared in shock at Bobby.

Joe blushed and looked relieved.

Sandy stood and poured the rest of her wine on Joe’s head. Then she grabbed her bag and left the house.

For a moment everyone sat in silence.

Joe blinked and told Paul he’d call, then he left to find Sandy.

Maurice passed the joint to Bobby and said: “I love gay parties… “

Portrait of Cat Steves

On the Road to Find Out
Cat Stevens – Tea for the Tillerman
Community Audio

Second Life Photo and Writing (c) Rob Goldstein 2016 All Rights Reserved

25 thoughts on “17 St Phillip Street – Part Ten-

  1. I love gay parties, too.
    That bit about Bob, that was intriguing.
    Have I mentioned I dig this series? Good stuff, I hope you keep at it 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. I found out about Bob when I wrote it. In a way writing this is my first successful attempt to communicate with one of my alters without relying on having them write to each other or the weird business of taking on an avatar skin and entering Second Life. When I sit down to write the episode, Bobby lets me have his memories.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Thank you…I feel like I’m walking a tightrope with this. I need to keep the context of time and place consistent, and allow the humor and warmth of the characters to emerge while revealing the anger they feel over their status as outcasts. And there is Bobby’s dilemma as a rather typical young man who doesn’t know who he is but who has a keen sense of what he’s not.

        Liked by 2 people

      2. I felt like Bobby once – but I was much older and had great responsibilities of a family and authority in our local Parish so didn’t act out in real world terms – at least not until the children were at university and I could go to the famed Kings Cross to meet all the possibilities, to overcome my own prejudices.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. I find your comment interesting on a number of levels…on one because sounds as if you’ve had some terrible struggles of your own.
        And the other was my first reaction to your comment that you once felt like Bobby. My first reaction was, what does it feel like
        to feel like Bobby; because I don’t know.

        But that’s why the writing of this little series is so unusual for me; it’s the first time that Bobby has let me ‘see’
        his memories and fantasies.

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Perhaps i might have said I knew what this felt like because I had experienced it.

        “But a part of Bobby disagreed.
        It thought that Bobby’s motives were selfish and the conflict silenced Bobby.

        Why was it so confusing to be Bobby?” My confusion was in the earliest years when I felt one way and appeared another and so the confusion I experienced would have been of a different ilk. His confusion seems to be explaining himself to himself, apologising for things he hadn’t done. Bobby’s Standing Ground, his basis for understanding his world as Wittgenstein referred to it is a bit like shifting sand because with DID he has so many of them.

        Liked by 1 person

      1. He would have been 40 when he was born. He is 67 now. Since music is in his blood I’m glad he found his way back to it. I’m doing a post on him and his induction to the music hall of fame. Probably post it tomorrow.

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