This post is based on a true story. However, some instances have been changed to protect the identity of some people involved in the story. This post is dedicated to the late E. Lynn Harris, James Earl Hardy, and Emil Wilbekin for inspiring a young black, gay teen to write back in the 90s.
If you’ve read Part 1 of this story, you remember I told you about my first high school “boyfriend”, Bangladesh and why our relationship ended. In that narrative, I also mentioned that I discovered my high school crush’s Facebook page as well. Similar to Bangladesh’s profile, my crush’s online profile made my heart skip. Unlike my ex’s profile, bae’s page made my dick double dutch in my manties just thinking of the shit I will still do to him if given the opportunity.
TangoRay(definitely not his real name but equally country) was on our high school’s football team and extremely popular with the not-so-secret High School Sissy Committee. HSSC consisted of 4-5 out and proud femme gay boys that were known for three things: literally snatching chickenheads’ wigs who bullied them, wearing brown MAC lip gloss with a gold tooth smile, and being the bottom bitch for every gang member in school. Why was TangoRay popular with HSSC?
Imagine 6 foot 3 inches of pure sexiness: dark skin complexion of Morris Chestnut, R&B singer Tank’s muscular build, the seductive hazel eyes of Ty Dolla $ign, and the big smoker lips of Jay-Z(side note: I’m still trying to figure out how and why a teen had smoker’s lips but I digress). Despite his looks, TangoRay wasn’t popular with the girls due to him not being light skinned with good curly hair. HSSC made it their mission to validate TangoRay’s attractiveness by buying him clothes and making sure his lunch was paid for.
Did I have a crush on TangoRay because he was certified sexy by the sissies? Absolutely not. As a matter of fact, I tried to avoid his ass and HSSC all together because I was still unsure and questioning my own sexuality. Yes, I had messed around with Bangladesh but I thought it was phase. After all, I wasn’t no goddamn sissy. Hell, I started reading E. Lynn Harris and James Earl Hardy’s books just to confirm that I wasn’t one. As much as I tried to avoid TangoRay, I couldn’t any longer.
My first interaction with TangoRay was during our senior year. I was the editor-in-chief of our high school newspaper with the mission of becoming the next Emil Wilbekin, the-then editor of Vibe magazine. TangoRay personally requested that I interviewed him for “Athlete of the Month” feature for the newspaper. Mind you, there were several athletes on the newspaper staff that I personally handpicked because of there love of sports. However, TangoRay believed that I wouldn’t make him look foolish because I was the editor.
For the interview, TangoRay and I met up after school in the boy’s locker room. As I was walking into the locker room, I stopped abruptly causing my tape recorder to ricochet off the floor. Wearing just a towel, TangoRay was standing at his locker with water glistening all over his body like chocolate cascading from a fondue fountain. Startled by the tape record falling, his white towel fell from his waist, revealing 8 inches of massive uncutness with the perfectly manicured manbush.Unabashed, TangoRay swiveled towards my direction(dick swinging and all), looked down at the towel, gazed at me for a moment, winked, licked his Jay-Z-ish lips al a LL Cool J, and slowly picked up his towel.
At that moment, my body did something I’ve never experienced before. Tiny sweat beads began to trickle down my forehead like ice perspiring from a red Solo cup. My once parched mouth began to salivate like I was about to devour some homemade peach cobbler covered in vanilla ice cream. My manhood began to rapidly pulsate as if a blood vessel was on the verge of popping. This would be the moment I confirmed that I was sexually attracted to men. And I wanted a taste of TangoRay’s gin and juice.
Wrapping his towel around his waist, TangoRay walked over and whispered in my ear, “I can tell by your body language, that you liked what you see. And I definitely like you. So I don’t know why you be frontin’ on me like you do.”
Continuing with his sensual seduction, TangoRay placed his hand under my chin, turned my head towards him, our lips literally centimeters apart, TangoRay goes into kiss me, when I asked, “So when are we doing this interview because I need to go do my homework?” Record scratch. TangoRay looked puzzled. He couldn’t believe that I not only stopped him as he wasn’t use to people turning him down.
I know most of you thought this scene was about to turn into a Signal 23TV plot. Sorry to disappoint you. As much as my body was calling for TangoRay, I was familiar with this scenario, thanks to E. Lynn Harris. TangoRay was the Basil Henderson to my Raymond Tyler. Similar to Basil, TangoRay used his good looks, sex appeal, and charm to get his way with people. Basil was also a football player. Even as a teenager, TangoRay knew how to use what he got to get what he wanted.
Why did I reject TangoRay’s advances? I didn’t want to experience that same heartbreak and disappointment that I experienced with Bangladesh. In my mind, TangoRay would be trouble because I believed that TangoRay felt entitled. He used to people bowing down and worshipping him that it was turn off for me.
We never finished the interview and I made sure to stay clear of TangoRay. However, he was in a heavy rotation in my spank bank. #GinWillMakeYouSin.
Throughout the rest of our senior year, TangoRay was determined to get my attention. For example, he would lift his shirt up to reveal his happy trail everytime I walked pass or have girls feeling on his biceps as he flexed them, mouthing the words to TLC’s Red Light Special, “Baby, it’s yours if you want it tonight.” Meanwhile, I just paid him dust because I knew I would never see him again after graduation.
We gave each other the nigga dap/hug combo and exchanged pleasantries, including what have been up to since high school. As the conversation was coming to a conclusion, we gave each other the nigga dap and hugged again. During that embrace, TangoRay whispered in my ear, “Your sexy ass still got it” and lightly tapped me on my ass.
As TangoRay strolled away, so many “what ifs” flooded my mind. What if we did kiss that day in the locker room? What if I had given him a chance to actually become my friend? What if TangoRay was suppose to be the love of my life?
The last time I spoke with TangoRay was via Facebook in 2010. Like Bangladesh, he was still in Montgomery, heavily involved in a church, and married to a pleasantly plump woman. It is like a rule in Montgomery: want to erase the gay away, become a church deacon and marry a fat woman.
I messaged congrats to TangoRay and I told him I’m glad that life has treated him well. See you at the 20 year class reunion. TangoRay sent a messaged back, “Thanks and likewise. ”
“You know this was supposed to be you in the pic beside me, right? ” TangoRay private messaged me, “This still could be you if you finally admit that you wanted me just as much as I wanted you.”
“I did want you. However, God had a different plan for us. Just continue to be a good man to your wife and an excellent father to your kids, that will make me proud, ” I messaged back. That was the last time TangoRay and I ever spoke again.