Last night I got on the scale. Something I don’t usually do, but I did. Down from 178 pounds just a few months ago, I can proudly say that I am sitting at a stable 150 pounds, thanks to the Keto Diet.
That is 28 pounds, GONE from my body …
A small child, really !
I am beginning to feel it in the core of my body, the tightness of my abs, and my tummy. There is a definite reshaping going on inside my body. I had not noticed it before.
I am certainly feeling good about myself. My friends, not so much.
Some of my friends believe that I am going through some mid-life crisis of some kind. Others think that I am too flashy for words, and one of my friends says, about me, that I am, the best color coordinated motherfucker on the planet.
Yes, Everything I wear is color coordinated. Every pair of tights, pants, shirts, and my shoes, are ALWAYS color coordinated. If you looked in my closet, you would see that there is a rainbow of color to choose from on a daily basis.
I’ve said before that 90% of Feeling Good is Looking Good.
A long, long time ago, when I was yet a man, in those years that I was working for Todd, I knew I looked good. In my little leather outfits, chosen specifically, to woo my paying customers on the other side of the bar to pay up for cheap liquor, I would always dress that part, of that boy, they knew they wanted, but without Todd’s permission, could never touch.
If you added a specifically colored Hanky to the mix, eyes would widen and the game got very interesting for sure. I loved playing that game.
One particular night the Brick Red Hanky Crowd was circling the bar. I saw that going on. I went to my locker and had the corresponding signals. I put on those signature items, and went back to my bar, fully locked and loaded. One particular Big Man, he had BIG hands, came up to drink. I served him willingly. He took one look at my ass, and my corresponding hanky, and he looked back at himself. Raised his hand in front of me and made a fist.
I grinned mischievously. Signal Sent…
Todd forbid me from contacting any man in the bar. He was my Protector and Master. He also forbid guests from touching me physically. They all knew I was off limits. But Todd always told me that I could dress any way I wanted, so long as it did not interfere with my job, either behind the bar, or in the crowd. I dressed the part each and every night. I have recorded all those particular stories in the PAGES section of the blog down below.
Sadly, I must admit, that my sex life, to date, has never risen to the level of the experience I wish I had had. Because Todd knew better of me, and he also knew that if I was ever allowed to cross that invisible line into sexual activity, I might have lost my life. The night Todd and I met, he read the deepest part of my little lost soul. And in that moment, he knew, that I could get myself in a heap of trouble if he allowed me to seek the darkness.
He forbid that darkness entirely. For my own salvation…
He loved me entirely. And I loved him entirely. Lock, Stock and Barrel.
He knew our guests better than I did, until I learned that truth for myself.
A handful of my young friends, did INDEED lose their lives because of certain men in the crowd.
Sex, Exotic Drugs, and Alcohol were no match.
Desire was one thing, dangerous sex is entirely another beast.
Three years would pass until this stage took place, when I had access to life saving medication. I had survived my death twice over and moved to Miami for treatment.
In the beginning, when I was very sick, I was STICK thin. I was wasting away, like many of my friends had, during those times. At one point I got a medicine called MEGACE.
It was a liquid medicine that one took a shot of every day. Over the following months I went from 90 pounds to over 180 pounds. I more than doubled my body weight, my doctors hoping that FATTENING me up would eventually save my life.
A body with bulk was less likely to fail, as medical intervention began.
The sad result of fattening up, was that my body shape went to POT.
I was sober, for a while. I was not sober, for a while. Then I got sober again …
For this little while.
I had resigned myself to my pear shape, with a belly of fat, that for the life of me, could not figure out, how to reshape. I had accepted my fate to be a fat rendition of healthy.
My drugs have done me famously. The great numbers were part of my life equation. The state of my body was another.
I have not felt, SEXY, like I felt SEXY at the age of Twenty Six – through Twenty Eight.
I am beginning to feel sexy, again. This is a feeling I chased for a long time, until it outstripped me, and left me in the dust.
When I was a kid, I could not do certain activities, or wear certain clothing, or certain shoes. My parents had rules about my looks, even when I was playing sports in school.
To this day, I have all those things my parents once said, I could not have. I am the man I want to be. There are certain items, I feel one must have.
- One must have clothing, all season clothing.
- One must have shoes, I have a small collection, of all weather sneakers, boots and winter wellies.
- One must have clothing that makes you feel good, sexy, and alive.
I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating.
All of my friends, ranging in age, dress according to their sensibilities. One of my friends, is thrifty like me. He shops like a fiend as I do. And his attire speaks to that. So he knows what kind of man I am, based on what I wear to meetings.
My Older friends, are, let’s face it, FRUMPY !!!
I abhor frumpy.
It might be good for my friends, but it will never be part of my attire.
A good friend of mine, is so perplexed with me. She just cannot wrap her head around the way I chose to live my life. She is the one who believes I am amid a mid-life crisis, the truth is, I’m NOT.
I always believed that this was My Party.
I’m not drinking my way to success. I am dressing my way to success.
Fifty is just a number, and does not necessarily reflect the way I see myself today.
I know what it felt like to stand behind the bar, and turn heads, and not have to say a single word. Usually, I would first, walk around the bar, and see where people were, in their heads, regarding the way they were dressed.
I would go backstage, to my little locker, that was always fully stocked, and I would put together the appropriate outfit that mimicked the guests in the bar. In fact, it was a direct response to the messages they were sending to one another.
I knew that language well. And I used that language to my advantage.
I don’t hang out in gay bars today. I don’t club either. And I sure as shit would never visit a sauna, here in the city. (READ: THERE ARE MANY SAUNAS) to choose from.
But with my terrible body, nobody would ever look at me.
My friends get to participate in my little life changing attitude and my looks.
The language is partly the same idea, but it isn’t, totally, in the same breath.
I could sit my friends down and explain the intricacies of Leather Speak, but that would give too much of my mystique away.
I enjoy keeping them guessing …
I’m not crazy. I’m not in crisis. I just want to be me right now.
And this is me right now …