Love for Sale
Room for Squares
A curve ball is something you don’t see coming. You could be happily walking along when out of nowhere a fast one comes and hits you upside the head. It makes you see things from another perspective. The paragraphs that follow are just my way of trying to make sense of something that, up until recently, had always been out of the question.
The topic of conversation, for the moment, is that age old trope of homosexual life: the much sought after and often scoffed at Sugar Daddy. A Sugar Daddy, for anyone who doesn’t know (though I can’t imagine there being many who don’t), is a gentleman, usually of a more advanced age and always of a deeper pocket, who likes to give material goods to a younger man in return for physical favors. The younger man, for all intents and purposes, keeps up his part of the bargain because, presumably, he likes being a kept man.
For as long as I can remember, I had viewed the Sugar Daddy arrangement with open disdain. It just seemed that someone who would knowingly and purposely use money as a means of securing sexual favors from an unsuspecting youth was dirty and despicable. But it occurs to me now that I only understood half of the story. It was like condemning the perpetrator without blaming the prostitute, the one who offers, for lack of a better term, love for sale. As usual, I was wrong to pass judgment without first examining each one’s motivations.
I can’t say I’ve done any kind of investigative research (e.g. I haven’t gone into Twin Peaks Bar undercover), but I’ve been tempted by similar arrangements in the past. Maybe no one’s exactly offered me a car, but once or twice I’ve found myself considering the perks of being given nice things in return for a mere 5 minutes of work. I mean, when you look at it that way, who wouldn’t want to be kept, right? The rate of return is, like, astronomical. Still though, propriety and perhaps a little bit of self worth have always won out.
And now that I’m no longer at an age where it’d be appropriate (if ever there were an appropriate age) to be someone’s boy toy, I can start to fantasize about having my own. Sure, I’d need a much larger bank account (not to mention a few more gray hairs), but it’s no longer a stretch of the imagination to think about keeping someone around to fill up those lonely hours between sunset and sunrise. Because what is a Sugar Daddy if not someone who tickles the fancy of a younger man with treats and the like merely because he expects companionship in return? Is that so wrong?
In my experience, I’ve learned that loneliness doesn’t discriminate. It doesn’t only prey on the old and decrepit, those who squandered public esteem in favor of selfish greed. No. Young people feel lonely too. And when you think about it like that, then the Sugar Daddy is really just providing a public service. It wouldn’t be fair to say that he takes advantage of the unsuspecting young without also saying that the unsuspecting youth is taking advantage of his kindness. If one values Fendi and the other treasures friendship, who’s to say they’re not both getting something out of it. After all, money can’t buy you love, but love can buy you anything.
|
|
