Sweet Like Sugar by Wayne Hoffman

Author:Wayne Hoffman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Jewish Men, Male Friendship, Rabbis, Jewish, Judaism, General, Literary, Religion, Jewish Gay Men, Fiction
ISBN: 9780758265623
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2011-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Frankie had lots of tattoos. We’d been dating for weeks and I’d seen them all.

He was a tough-looking guy: shaved head, black boots, permanent scowl. Nobody would have guessed that he had a Hello Kitty tattoo on his butt. Which is exactly why he had one. “I can tell a lot about a guy with this thing,” he told me. “Some guys think it’s too faggy and it ruins their fantasy. And some guys pretend they haven’t even noticed it. All of those guys are the wrong guys for me.”

I had laughed the second I saw it; apparently, this was the right reaction, because I’d been invited to see it many more times. And every time, I laughed again.

Most of our early dates involved going out—to a bar, to a club, to a party—and staying up late. I’d crash at his place on Capitol Hill and head home in the morning. We cracked each other up, but we didn’t really talk that much on our dates; it was hard to have serious conversations over the music and noise. But I sure liked looking at him. There’s a reason he was a model.

When work picked up, though, I was too exhausted to keep up with Frankie. Sometimes he’d go to a party alone and I’d meet him in the city afterward. Or he’d go to a club with a friend and I’d join him a couple hours later. Then we’d go back to his place, but I’d usually fall asleep right away, before I’d even caught a glimpse of Kitty. I was no fun and we both knew it.

I started begging off dates with him, telling him to go out without me. A few times he convinced me to change my mind; a few times he didn’t. Once or twice, he didn’t even try.

But then Halloween came, and with it, a huge party in a warehouse on U Street. Some DJ I’d never heard of from Berlin was being flown in, along with a DJ from London I’d also never heard of. How could I resist? We’d bought tickets in advance, fifty bucks a pop.

When the day finally arrived, I just didn’t feel up to it. It was a Wednesday, a work night, and I had a string of deadlines in the coming week. I called Frankie from my office and told him that one of his friends could use my ticket.

“You’re not getting out of this one,” he said. “It’s Halloween. That’s like gay Christmas.”

“I’m Jewish,” I said.

“Okay, gay Yom Kippur.”

“That’s not really a party holiday.”

“Well, how the hell should I know?” he said. “Gay Hanukkah.”

“Oh, now I get it,” I teased. “I’ll grab my dreidels and come right over.”

“I hate you,” he said sarcastically.

“Did you say you hate Jews?” I asked, still joking.

“Not all Jews; just you, Benji,” he said, now getting peeved. “I never see you anymore. And it’s Halloween, for Christ’s sake. I even got us matching costumes.”

“What’d you get?”

“Angel’s wings.”

“That’s the gayest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“They’re perfect,” he said.

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