A close friend of ours is a gay male
in his 40s. About seven years ago, our friend met and briefly dated a
not-too-bright, conniving guy about 10 years younger. Our friend threw
himself into this relationship with his new “trophy husband” and did
everything he could for his new boyfriend. He financed his apartment,
paid his numerous bills, wrote his papers for school, and even
purchased all the boyfriend’s holiday gifts—all the while keeping
everything a secret so the boyfriend could keep his big ego intact.
After the boyfriend was back on his feet with a new job, new wardrobe,
new apartment, and new furniture (courtesy of my friend), he dumped my
friend and was having sex with boys 10 to 15 years his junior.
Despite the terrible treatment he received,
my friend does everything he can to stay close to his ex. While our
friend is doing okay financially, he ended up mortgaging his...
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my friend does everything he can to stay close to his ex. While our
friend is doing okay financially, he ended up mortgaging his home
several times to help bail his ex out of his self-inflicted financial
problems. For a long time, my friend wouldn’t date anyone; he was
keeping himself free on the chance that his ex-boyfriend might want him
back one day. Years later, when my friend finally met someone and
started seriously dating, the old boyfriend quickly swooped in and
convinced my friend to end his new relationship.
This appears to be a never-ending cycle. My
friend, despite the fact that his ex still owes him thousands of
dollars, continues to buy him everything he can, as fast as he
can—a new condo, new furniture, and a new car. We love our friend
and we want him to be happy. However, he continues to be in denial
about the situation. He’s always defending his ex. How do we help our
friend move on from this opportunistic user and finally cut the
financial and emotional cords once and for all?
Hard To Watch
How did that “God grant me wisdom” poem go?
The one harried moms taped to their refrigerators back in the ’70s?
Some 12-steppin’ horseshit about serenity or something? Oh yeah, here
it is again, thanks to Google: “God grant me the serenity to accept the
things I cannot change/The courage to change the things I can/And the
wisdom to know the difference.”
Good advice in the ’70s—good advice
So, HTW, you need to accept that—short
of murder—there’s nothing you can do that will convince your
idiot friend to cut those financial and emotional cords. Your friend’s
behavior is pathetic, his ex is beneath contempt, and you should refuse
to play along. When you’re with your friend and his ex comes up, screw
your courage to the sticking place and say something like this: “He’s a
user, you’re a fool, change the subject.”
And wise up, HTW. The more effort you go to,
the more interventions you stage, the more advice columnists you
pester, the longer your friend is going to cling to his ex-boyfriend.
Your emotional investment in his predicament is, without a doubt,
feeding your friend’s delusions. And your efforts to stop him from
being this boy’s cash slave are allowing him to mistake this pathetic,
self-destructive attachment for a grand, romantic drama—a drama
in which he’s playing the hero, not the fool.
I am addressing this to both
¡Ask a Mexican! and Savage Love, hoping one of you will have an
answer to this: Why do Mexican chicks yell for their papi during
Daddy Del Diablo
“Dear Gabacho: Latinas calling men
papi (daddy) during sex or in day-to-day conversation is
really more of a Caribbean thing,” says Gustavo Arellano, author of
¡Ask a Mexican!, “and my column isn’t called ¡Ask J.Lo!
Then again, there was that chilanga chula (hot-ass Mexico City
chick) who’d whisper it whenever the Mexican slipped her the chorizo…
so let’s answer your pregunta. In Mexico, as in the rest of
Latin America, fathers stand atop the machismo mountaintop. They’re the
hombres who allow or deny a daughter permission to marry or leave the
household, the man who wives must tend to and sons respect, fear, and
follow. Dads earned such a place in Mexico gracias to the
cultures of Catholicism, the Conquest, and the Aztecs—all
governed by males who considered women little more than birth canals.
Mix the three societies together, add some Freudian and Oedipal
impulses, and you’re left with some fucked-up sexual mores that a
half-century of Chicana feminism and modernity have yet to eradicate.
But, hey: Better your brown lady yell ‘papi’ during coitus than
‘¡Ay, chiquito gabacho!‘ ¿Qué
To read my response to Daddy Del Diablo’s
question, you’ll have to swing over to www.ocweekly.com/columns/ask-a-mexican.
Got a questions for Gustavo? You can e-mail him directly at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Well hello there, Mr. Savage. I’m the
woman who had that boy tied up in my bedroom during a party this
summer. I knew that one of my guests happened upon him before I read
your column last week, because he told me about it. I wish I knew which
one of my guests it was—I was hosting my firm’s summer barbecue
on my deck and there were a lot of people here—because I would
like to thank her for not calling the police!
Do your readers want the rest of the story?
I’m sure they do. The boy is not quite half my age: He’s 21, I’m 38. He
worked at a Starbucks in my office building. He noticed me noticing
him, we flirted a bit, and then one night I ran into him in a bar. We
ditched our respective friends, and slipped out to get a drink
At the next bar, he asked me if I was
married. I told him I was recently divorced, having waited way too long
to DTMFA. I asked him if he wanted to fool around. He said yes
(actually he said “fuck, yeah!”), but our age difference was an issue
for him. I promised to obey the “campsite rule,” i.e., I would leave
him in better shape than I found him (no broken hearts, no diseases, no
unwanted babies). That’s when he told me that he was submissive and
into bondage and S&M. He offered to fulfill any fantasies I might
have, telling me he was GGG. It was then that we realized we had been
speaking entirely in Savage Love code.
He’s been reading your column since he was
15, and says you’re the reason he can be so open about his kinks. I’ve
been reading you since I was 29, and you’re the reason I wasn’t shocked
by his kinks. We had oodles of fun this summer—which included,
yes, me keeping him tied up in my bedroom while other people were in my
apartment. And we have you to thank, Dan!
Budding Fem Dom
P.S. Provided neither of us is seriously
dating anyone by then, we’re planning on getting together around
Christmas. And no more leaving him tied up alone, I promise! And the
woman who “accidentally” found him while looking for the bathroom? She
had to walk past two bathrooms before she got to the one nearest my
bedroom. She was snooping!
You’re welcome, BFD, and thanks for sharing.
Download Savage Lovecast (my weekly
podcast) every Tuesday at www.thestranger.com/savage.
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