Wednesday, September 02, 2009


This guy keeps saying you must be really high -- you’re really high, aren’t you? What do you mean, why do you think I’m high? Because of the way you’re looking at me.

I thought I was just looking at him the way I’m feeling, but then he says you’re high, aren’t you? No, I’m not high. He says you said in your post that you were high, I say no I just said I got back from dancing. He says you’re not even buzzed? I say no, I don’t even drink. He says why not?

Later, he says oh, you must be crazy -- you’re crazy, aren’t you? I say sure. He says no, crazy isn’t a good thing. I say why not?

Do you see why it’s funny hooking up with people who you probably don’t have anything in common with, except when the sex gets super-connected and that’s the way you’re looking at him, right? But maybe he thinks that people only look at someone that way when they’re high -- too much bad sex, I guess -- I can certainly relate to that part.

But the funniest part is at the end, when he says: do you like Asians? He’s Asian, we’ve just had super-connected sex and I’ve already asked him if he wants to get together again, and I know he’s asking me that question because of an endless array of racist responses from guys online, but still it seems like a strange time for the question. I say I like whoever, and he doesn’t say I’m crazy.

It’s funny that I’m thinking about this now, when we had sex a few weeks ago, it already seems like so long ago, so long ago when I actually went dancing, now that I don’t know where to go again. That was the night with the surprise smoke machine, the night when I got back home so present in my body I wanted someone to share this presence, a present with that guy who came over in his flip-flops and now I’m thinking should I call him, should I call him even though we probably have nothing in common, would it be fun again or just draining and I can’t decide.


Anonymous said...

I left the South because of the racism. Well, not just the racism, but that was part of it. Before moving to SF I hadn't been with many guys. Most of of the guys I had been with were Latino and/or black, but I had tried a couple of white guys.

Then I move to SF, meet these "friends" who tell me what a shame it is that I dress like that/have such a bad haircut because otherwise I'd be really cute (I was 23 and had never been out of the South before I moved to SF). So Alvin takes me shopping and I spend too much money on a shirt with the right label, and then he takes me to get a haircut that also cost too much money. I don't have enough money to eat for a week but apparently I look acceptable to my new "friends".

We go to the Endup again, but this time cute boys are flirting with me (Apparently that haircut was really bad b/c no one spoke to me the last time). I was shy and awkward b/c I wasn't used to getting attention like that and it made me nervous even though I liked it. I met a cute boy that night, went back to his place and had amazing sex.

After a few months of hanging out with my new "friends" and doing the drugged out club thing, I still hadn't overcome my shyness but guys approached me- ME!- and I remember wondering what was wrong with me when I lived in the South b/c no one ever hit on me, especially not the guys I thought were attractive. One night at Sugar Alvin pulls me aside and said "Elián, you better watch out." Watch out for what? "Girl, people are already saying you ain't nothing but a rice queen."

I had never heard that term before in my life and I had no idea what it meant. Alvin pointed out that I'd mostly been hooking up with Asian guys. He said it like it was a bad thing. I hadn't even thought about the races of the guys I'd been with since moving to SF, but when I looked back on it I realized yeah I guess most of them were Asian. Alvin asked me why I was so into Asian guys and I said I was just into cute guys who approached me first b/c I was shy-painfully shy-and he knew that.

That's when Alvin, white Alvin, said, "Girl, don't start thinking you're all that. Asian guys in this town hit on anything b/c they have to take whatever they can get." I was so stunned I didn't respond to her. The bitch had simultaneously gone for my jugular while making one of the most racist statements I'd heard in years. And I'd just left the South b/c of the racism.

That was more than ten years ago, and I still haven't figured out why Asian guys weren't allowed to be hot. But at least I have regained my poor fashion sense and my haircut is back to how I like it.

I have never witnessed racism as ugly as the racism spread by faggots in San Francisco. I thought I was treated like an outcast by fags in the South for not being a blond/blue-eyed waif, but honey, there's no racism like gay San Francisco racism...As a Latino (the other white meat), I only experienced it in SF occasionally ("oh fuck me Papi....say something in Spanish").

In San Francisco's fucked up fag caste system,though, Asians are the Dalits. They are either fetishized or ostracized...and there's almost no in between.

I know I just totally went off on a portion of what you wrote, but it struck a nerve. Could you tell? :)

On an unrelated topic, in an earlier post you wrote:

"When your body wasn’t your body and that’s what you learned. Safety was a joke that someone else created to make you feel unsafe.

Longing: what all skin has in common with skin. Longing to hold. The lights are sparkling waves over hills in the distance and the buildings smooth into each other, more hills, closer."

That's what makes me excited about reading your next book. The way you can make gorgeous terrifying, and terrifying gorgeous.



mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

My dear, so true about racist faggots in San Francisco -- and everywhere, really -- or at least everywhere I've lived... I'd love to hear more of this/your story though, told with such eloquence!

And thank you so much about "The way you can make gorgeous terrifying, and terrifying gorgeous." I was just editing some of that new book, and thinking how on earth, how on earth am I going to condense all this?

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Oh, and the internet -- I think the internet makes all this racist garbage even worse, because people are even less accountable, oh no!

Love --

Anonymous said...


I am pretty sure you won't get this, but you never know!

I am not sure I knew you were from the south, that's pretty exciting. I forgot who I was talking to about this (Mattilda?), but something that I find almost... comforting(?) about the South is that the racism that exists here is very externalized. A lot of times, I find that I don't have to worry about people making backhanded (is that the right term?) racist comments, because they will just say outright "I hate ___" and move away from them, or I will hear things like "I don't go to that club, too many blacks". While this is clearly fucked up, I see it as just as dangerous as the internalized racism that exists in 'big cities' (specifically thinking of Chicago and SF), where people won't say these things out loud, but will just 'happen' to only frequent white clubs, or will just 'happen' to only have white neighbors, etc etc.

Clearly this could be completely off, but that has been my experience.

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

I've heard the same thing from a lot of people, for sure...

Love --

Anonymous said...


I agree, at least with the Klan one knows where one stands! Lol!

On a completely unrelated note, I think you and Mattilda will both get a kick out of my response to yesterday's article in The Dallas Voice referring to queer anarchists as the "lunatic fringe"(specifically in reference to "Ariel Attack" and Queers Against Obama).

Mattilda- I know why faggots hate faggots! Because some of them write for rags like the Dallas Voice!

mattilda bernstein sycamore said...

Elian, I didn't know the blog was back up -- I'll go look right now, or wait right now I'll open the link and then I'll cook something so I'm not too hyperglycemic...

Love --