The Magic of She-Ra the Zee-Bruh in The Stuff That's Not Interesting But Is The Most Interesting Stuff I'll Write

Yesterday I got a text inviting me to go once again the monthly queer performance art party. There were two opposing sides of this decision with some minor pulls in either direction. I'll start with the minor stuff because the main reasons for going or not going are much more difficult to explain and interpret.

The first sub-reason for going is a fairly obvious one: since the beginning of the year, my own burgeoning performance art talent craves the kind of mindset that this produces. It give me ideas and creates a context for me to see myself outside of the boring college student label with which I have most recently become associated. The sub-reason for not going is because I would go with Dave and he would be bringing along his friend, and he informed me that he usually has sex with his friend. Then he intimated that a threesome would be fine with him. That's a no from me...

Now for the main reasons... The main reason I didn't want to go was because I was tired. I have become addicted to sleep, especially since I cut back on all the drinking and smoking. I find that I much prefer falling asleep early and waking up early and when that gets interrupted for too long a time, I get irritable and start to behave much like my mother. That's not a draw for me.

The main reason I did want to go was actually something I didn't want to admit or think to myself until after I had already arrived and I felt like it was okay for me to think it. I wanted to see Ben again. I think this is ridiculous to say, but I have a huge crush on that guy. For whatever reason, I fall into this trap whenever I really like a guy and I have no idea what it is or where it comes from? Someone tried to tell me that it's internalized homophobia... which to me, that phrase sounds like complete bullshit... I have a lot of problems with myself but my sexual identity is NOT one of them. I think it's because I really only see my flaws... which I think is another reason why I remains aloof even with my friends. Whatever the reason, I shutdown whenever I like someone.

I think it also might have something to do with a pedestal complex... I mean, Ben is a performance artist, and before I wouldn't have given so much heft to that, but now it seems as if it looms over his existence.

All of this is completely ridiculous because we had our first conversation completely naked surrounded by guys having sex... I'm confident when I'm completely naked but a total wreck when we're clothed and surrounded by glitter... go figure.

I say I didn't figure this out until afterward. You see, Ben had an art exhibit in San Francisco and was out of town. I knew that he was back in town, but I wasn't sure that he'd go to the art show what with the energy one uses when traveling. I just told myself that I wanted to have a consistency within the community... but in reality, when I was standing in line for a drink, and I saw him walk through the door, I felt myself go all hot.

That's when I realized that subconsciously, I was really hoping he'd be at the show.

Another thing that I completely hate is when people can see my emotional reactions and know what they mean. I think this comes from all those years of social paranoia in the closet... being mysterious is habitual and preferred. As soon as Ben walked in, Dave elbowed me and pointed him out in such a conspicuous manner that I wanted to smack him. Even though my insides were screaming celebration, I looked at Dave and shrugged.

Here's a secret about me: if I'm shrugging, it's because I'm trying to conceal an emotion. The only time I shrug is if I have something to say but I'm too embarrassed to do so.

I was out having a smoke and Ben finally acknowledged me. I felt so weak, it was pathetic. I used to have so much confidence in these situations and I wonder what has changed in the last few years... I think it's because my perspective on romantic relationships has gained more importance so in my mind, the stakes are higher.

I went inside, sat in the well-lit corner with Dave and sipped on my Pernod. Pretty soon Ben came in to look at the art on the walls. Someone had traveled around California and taken photographs of as many glory holes as they could. They were all very fascinating.

When intermission happened, they raffled off some prizes. One man just happened to get all the porn in the raffle pot. Dennis (Dave's friend whom he was intending to fuck) won a book... one that I wanted badly. Dave won some kind of CD. I happened to win, and I won a blow-up zebra. At first I was disappointed, but as I looked at it, I realized that it was such a random prize... of course I had to have it.

The show continued and finally concluded with a man dressed as a 14-year-old Cyndi Lauper, singing True Colors that suddenly turned into Blister In the Sun, and then he stripped off his tutu, sported a clean-shaved erection and danced around singing the theme song to Reading Rainbow. I haven't laughed so hard in YEARS... If you have instagram, you should check out my instagram (joboharrison) to see a picture of him (clothed, unfortunately).

When the show concluded, I took my zebra and sat on the bench out front to have a cigarette. Ben came and sat down beside me, picked up my zebra and asked me what I have chosen to name my zebra. I told him that the theme of the night was "Bulge" but this zebra didn't have a bulge. He dutifully examined the crotch and nodded.

"Then I looked at the haircut and realized this thing is a dyke. So I named her She-Ra the Zee-Bruh."

He laughed so hard and asked me to take a picture.

Right at that moment, an older man with whom I've conversed on several occasions, came over and asked for a cigarette. I obliged because he's a 70-something queer performance artist. The stories this man has told me are amazing and his performances are so passionate. He joined our conversation and I noticed him looking kind of side-eyed at me.

I love old people because they can see right through my bullshit, they know when I'm trying to obscure something... but they also know why I do it and often times they play along or skirt the issue. He decided to facilitate some discussion between Ben and myself, and he also sang a song, half in English, half in Spanish... complete with jazz hands and too much vibrato... I fucking love this guy.

The most amazing thing of this whole situation was that Ben seemed like he was interested. I was not in great form, conversationally, which is rare... but luckily there was some forgiveness.

We kept knocking the damn zebra over with our gesticulations. Finally Ben yelled at her, "Get it together, She-Ra, you're a fucking fall-down mess!"