The Goliath Triangle

Few can pinpoint the precise moment when a man becomes emasculated, or far worse, loses the admiration of his girlfriend. Many times it happens between the loss of a job and the refusal to find a new one. Sometimes, it’s the general lack of sexual satisfaction accompanied by the unwillingness to perform oral sex. And in some cases, it’s the inability to make important decisions until after the PlayStation 3 is turned off. All of the prior situations indeed contributed to the demise of the lovable couple, Chad Stevens and Lana Gander, but it wasn't the main reason. They weren't the straw that rendered the camel lame.

One could say that maybe Chad shouldn't have drunk so many beer cocktails that night. The combination of beer and hard liquor back to back never provides a happy ending. Either you wake up with your face pasted with puke on the bathroom floor next to your toilet or end up having your wounds cleaned in the ER because your drunken mouth felt it needed to have the last word. Yes, both situations can occur, just ask Chad. But none of these inconveniences compared to the tragedy of losing his beloved Lana. Till this day you can find Chad in some slummy bar getting shitfaced, drink after drink. He turns to you and asks, “How could this happen to me?”

Somehow you become clairvoyant and respond, “It was your decision to go to that football game. She never even liked football. She let you drag her there but she secretly despised you for it.” Chad thinks for a moment and realizes that you're right. He remembers how he would change the channel to Monday Night Football on ABC without even asking if Lana was watching the television. She was. Her favorite documentary series came on at the same hour. But hey, having one television sucks. Also, the gift he gave her for their first anniversary comes to mind: season tickets for the Seattle Seahawks. Chad just assumed that since his girlfriend never complained about the obsessive following of football that it meant that she liked the sport. See, Chad is an idiot.

You don't need Chad to tell you what happened that ill-fated night because your powers haven't worn off, but let him have his moment. He's still somewhat coherent. He tells you that after the game his favorite football player, Lance Mitchell was signing autographs and Chad refused to leave until he had words with him. Lance had announced a few days prior that he was retiring from the sport simply because it wasn't fun for him anymore. At this point, I am going to advise that you don't listen to Chad because he won't tell you the truth.

Chad had an unhealthy obsession with Lance. He kept a scrapbook of newspaper clippings, football cards, pictures, and about anything he could find about Lance. One of the pictures was a shot that Lance did for Playgirl magazine while still attending the University of Washington. It wasn't a nude picture, but Lance appeared shirtless wearing a pair of extra tight underwear that left nothing to the imagination. Every once in a while, when conventional hetero porn didn't do the trick, Chad would use that picture to help release his tension. I'll let Chad take it from here.

Mister Lush himself, Chad tells you that when he saw Lance he began to run towards him, pushing poor Lana out of the way. She hit the floor hard. A group of boys rushed in front of Chad to meet with the legend. Sweeping push. The children hit the floor hard. Scantily-clad groupies slid in Chad's way, showing cleavage and mouthing the words of their hotel and room numbers. Sweeping kick. They hit the floor hard. Chad was merely a few feet away from having his confrontation with Lance, the athlete whose early retirement news was devastating. The only thing that separated Chad from his goal was a mountain range of burly bodyguards. The tequila and Corona beer told him that he could easily jump over the towering group of hired security. So, he jumped. Alcohol has a funny way of both lying to you and making you tell the truth.

Lana watched the jump as she got up from the floor. It looked promising at first, but was quickly interrupted by a two-handed catch by a walking monument of a man. The catch turned into a body slam. That time, Chad hit the floor hard. The other security men got ready to assist in the take down.

“Nah, I got this, men.” Goliath Everest said.

Goliath proceeded to bring Chad back to his feet. He then picked Chad up by the neck with one hand and used his abdomen as a punching bag with the other. Lana watched the look of pain in her boyfriend's eyes. A look like that would trouble an innocent bystander that had nothing to do with Chad. But the look had a different reaction in Lana. Her eyes moved over the thick bulky arms of Mr. Everest, his smooth dark skin, the collection of sweat beads on his forehead, and the bursts of air escaping from his full lips as he exhaled with every punch. She couldn't help but mutter the words “kick his ass” as the gladiator made mincemeat out of her boyfriend. It could have been the years of frustration that caused Lana to be disloyal to Chad, but I would say something else had to be the reason. While Chad lay in the hospital, recovering from his injuries, Lana hid herself in the hospital's public restroom, touching herself as she reminisced about the brutal attack. See, Lana is a sociopath.

“And she fucking left me! For the asshole who beat the shit out of me!” Chad tells you, for him it's the clincher, but for you it goes without saying. Your randomly acquired abilities forced you to watch Lana masturbate to the memory of the juggernaut pounding her boyfriend's internal organs into paste. You say while handing the bartender a 2-dollar bill, “Have another shot on me, Chad. And one for me too, please.”

“Dude, I don't know how they met. I don't know... but they sent me home from the hospital with strict instructions.... for Lana to keep an eye on me... and make sure I took my meds. SHEEEE left me in front of the TV with my meds on the coffee table with a cup of water! I could barely move to pick up the damn cup! But, she was too fucking busy running around with that guy. Yeah, I love you too, bitch.”

As Brad hiccups uncontrollably, your receive a vision of Lana's infidelity. Lana asked around the groupie circuit to find out where Lance Mitchell's security hung out. Finally, one of the ladies informed Lana that Goliath did some security work at Larry's, a seedy hip-hop club whose liquor license was soon to be revoked. When she entered the line, she saw Goliath do a dream-shattering kick to the balls of an all too anxious club-goer who didn't know when to shut up. With the victim curled up on the ground just a few feet in front of her, Lana fell in sick lust again. It doesn't matter what was said to whom but Lana and Goliath ended up having rough sex in the club's filthy restroom.

But really, why did she betray Chad so coldly? He wasn't that bad.

“Yeah, why did she fucking leave me? How could she do this to me? We were together since high school. HIGHHHH SCHOOOOL!”

The same question echoes through your mind. How could a seemingly content couple end in such an exaggerated fashion? It's important to consider who exactly we're talking about here. Brad is the hopeless dope who neglected his girlfriend for the love of pigskin and Lance Mitchell. Lana is the ticking time bomb of sexual destruction who left Chad for the man who severely beat him and sometimes works for the aforementioned athlete. It was the mundane nature of Lana and Chad's relationship that frustrated Lana but kept her psychotic tendencies at bay. She no longer wanted to be boring, incompetent, and normal anymore. Although ripe with passion, her new relationship with Goliath will put the lives of many in danger. Chad didn't want anything to do with murder; he was too busy killing himself with alcohol.

When you consider the causes of a breakup, it's almost more important to accept the fact that some relationships aren't meant to continue. It doesn't matter that what the other person wants isn't exactly the best for him or her, especially if they end up going for it anyway. They usually do. It is best to go through the emotions of a breakup and make sure that they lead you to a better place.

You finish listening to my narrative lecture and turn to your intoxicated buddy. “You got that, Chad?”

Chad is slumped over the bar counter, snoring and drooling.

“You'll get it one day, Chad. Soon enough.”

Every Treasure Hunt -Chapter 1

Every Treasure Hunt Has it's End

Demetrius walked into a run-down mini-mart outside of Tillicum. A older gentleman gazed at him from the counter. Like a stone, he didn't have the most inviting expression on his face.

“You lost or somethin'?” The man sharply asked.

”No, sir. Some friends told me that I needed to be here.” The man's face softened just a little bit. But remained rigid.

“Oh... is that right?”

Demetrius looked down at the counter, it was a dusty mess of random knick-knacks and such. He took a deep breath and began to speak.

“Yeah I have been sick for the longest time. I am sick of suffering, I don't want this disease to take me. I'd rather go on my own terms.”

The man sighed loudly.

“What the fuck are you trying to get me arrested? Get the hell outta here!”

Demetrius thought about leaving but firmly stood his ground.

“I came here for a reason, and I am not leaving until I get what I want.”

The older gentleman continued to gaze at Demetrius. He knew with the line of products that he sold, he needed to take some precautionary measures.

“I guess you won't take no for an answer. You must be serious. Wait one minute, ok?”

“Alright, but don't keep me waitin' too long, I've got kids in Yakima, you know.” Demetrius replied while smiling slightly.

The man smiled at Demetrius's successful elocution of the secret phrase. Had he not said it right, he would have just given Demetrius a bag of flour. The older gentleman went into the back room for a few minutes, loudly moving things about. He returned to the counter with a bottle in his right hand.

“Three hundred.” He said flatly.

Demetrius placed three one-hundred dollar bills on the counter. The man took each one and slowly rubbed his counterfeit detector over it.

“Well you're legit, brother. Here you go.”

The man handed the bottle to Demetrius. The bottle was small, the size of a eye drop bottle. Upon it was the word “heaven” written in permanent black marker.

“Heaven?” Demetrius asked, puzzled.

“Oh yes son. This bottle will take you there. Real smooth like, you won't feel a thing. They say to run a nice warm bath, get into the tub, and drink the bottle. But you have to drink the whole thing. 'Till the last drop... drink this bottle and you will have eternal life.”

1

Demetrius had the cutest, friendliest face you could ever see. But he could be mean as Hell at times. At his finest, he would elevate bluntness to historic levels. But he loved very hard. He was cruel to his mother at times, but he loved her madly. There was Hell to pay if anybody laid a finger on her; and yes, one man had to learn the hard way.

At age 28, Demetrius had graduated from the nearby university but hadn't been able to find work in the field of Social Work. For the past year, the State had put hiring freezes which made successful job hunting damn near impossible. When the freezes were lifted, Demetrius and the entire city had to compete for a few positions. This situation depressed him, and Demetrius didn't show his pain through tears. He showed it through malice.

He had a few other good excuses to be angry, he was gay and infected with HIV. A double whammy, he called it. This situation did not necessarily give him the right to be as cross as he was, but it was good enough. Demetrius never worried about being accosted on the street because he was stereotypically masculine: he played sports and dated a few girls in high school, he was crass, and he was a thick guy. Despite his upper-middle class upbringing, he could speak street slang with the best of them.

He knew he was gay since age 16, when his then-best friend, Mateo invited him over to watch porn. An explicit-adult film and two horny teenage boys made the perfect concoction for exploratory behavior.

“Damn, dude. The bitch's got some nice tits!” Mateo exclaimed. “Makes my dick so hard.”

Demetrius gazed at the tent in Mateo's shorts.

“... Yeah, mine too.”

Mateo glanced over to his friend and saw his dick fully exposed out of the open zipper. He looked at Demetrius, surprised at his boldness.

“My bad, it was getting uncomfortable in my jeans.”

“Nah, it's cool... Hey, sometimes my cousin... well my second-cousin comes over and we watch porn... and sometimes... umm... we help each other out, you know? I mean, no gay shit like kissing but it feels so bomb when someone else touches your dick.”

Demetrius tried to keep his breath under control. To keep his cool. He didn't know what to say next.

“Well, nobody has ever touched it before... except for me.”

Mateo reached over to his good friend and made contact. Their desires overrode any inhibition that previously existed. They didn't stop until their virginity was lost, unfortunately, the friendship ended not soon after. Mateo didn't come to terms with his sexuality as easily as Demetrius. Demetrius was blamed for introducing Mateo to “weird, gay shit” like kissing and sucking dick. It didn't take long for Mateo to forget that it was he that made the first move.

What Mateo didn't know was that Demetrius was madly in love with him. The moment they first made love was like a dream come true. When Mateo rejected Demetrius, he was totally devastated. He locked himself in his room for days, playing rap music, and crying. His mother would try to check on him and he would let her in after multiple attempts, but only when his face was dry. He wouldn't tell her much details about what was going on. In fact, he lied. He told his mother that he and Mateo were fighting over a girl. She believed him, she had no reason not to.

The rejection affected Demetrius for the rest of his life. Since then, he only dated guys who resembled Mateo. But he didn't want to ever feel rejected again, ever. Therefore, he made sure he was the one who ended the relationships first. It didn't matter how well the relationship was going. He started to develop a reputation, but it didn't harm his success with men. It is odd how some people are drawn to trouble, and trouble was Demetrius.

Eventually, trouble found Demetrius. By chance, while leaving the gay bookstore where many would go for cruising, Demetrius ran into Mateo. Literally. Mateo was entering the entrance at the same time that Demetrius was leaving. Mateo fell back onto the sidewalk.

“What the fuck?!” Mateo said, while getting up quickly, about ready to fight. Then they recognized each other.

“Mateo?”

“Demetrius?”

“Oh shit... damn. It's been a minute. A long ass time...”

“Yeah, it's been a minute.”

“Sure has, well... what's up man?” Mateo extended his hand.

“Not much... just started classes at the university.” Demetrius finally accepted the handshake. A quick, yet powerful charge went through both of their bodies from the contact.

“That's good, man. I knew you would do somethin' good with your life.”

Mateo found himself staring at his former friend. In fact, they were staring at each other. Demetrius found himself falling back into the past, as much as he wanted to avoid it.

“So what you been up to?”

“Shit... well I got married.”

“Married?! To a chick?!”

“Yep, one year.”

“What you doin' here then, man?”

“I dunno... I guess I like to creep every once in a while.”

“DL?”

“Nah, fuck that. I hate that term. I just do what I do. You feel me?”

Simple as that, Demetrius was back in love. It was the simplicity of Mateo that Demetrius loved the most. Demetrius constantly had to battle intense thoughts and emotions, but Mateo was peaceful. Mellow.

“Mateo, let me show you a book that I helped write.”

“Alright.”

Demetrius walked Mateo to a section of shelves in the back. He pulled a book from the shelve that was entitled, Memoirs of Urban Gay Youth. Demetrius hated the title, but still he decided to contribute an essay he wrote about his first gay experience and life since then. Demetrius wanted Mateo to read the book, badly.

“This is what I wrote. It was about... my first relationship.”

“Your first relationship. What? Did the motherfucker break your heart?” Mateo asked, not knowing that he was the motherfucker.

“Yeah... he did.” Demetrius's voice cracked slightly. He could not conceal the sadness in his face. Mateo thought that Demetrius was irresistibly cute when sad.

“He had to be a damn fool to leave a sexy ass man like you.” Mateo touched Demetrius face, rubbed his ears and neck. They began to kiss. The desire that they had for each other in their early teenage years never left. They explored each other bodies with their hands, breathing heavily in between kisses.

“Alright men, go on and find yourselves a room.” The bookstore owner interrupted.

Demetrius and Mateo left the bookstore and checked into the nearest hotel. They made love several times. Making a lot a noise. They went outside for a bit to buy some marijuana. They went back to the hotel, got high, and made love some more. Demetrius didn't want Mateo to ever leave his arms. But he did. After the night they spent together, Mateo asked for Demetrius's number, but he never called. Demetrius was hurt but at least Mateo gave him another memory. Mateo also gave him HIV.

Since the acquisition of HIV, Demetrius love life slowed down significantly. He would meet potential mates but as soon as he told them his status, they were no longer interested. He did eventually meet somebody. During the past two years, he has been seeing a husky gentleman named Gustavo who worked as a HIV counselor. Like Demetrius, Gustavo was also HIV positive. However, Gustavo insisted that they have protected sex because of the risk of infecting each other with different strains. Gustavo was short, sweet, and long-suffering. He put up with a lot of strife from Demetrius. In the good days and bad, Gustavo stayed by his side. Every time Demetrius ended the relationship, Gustavo took him back. Demetrius did care deeply for Gustavo, and in his own way, loved him. But he didn't want to admit it because he feared being rejected again. As long as he didn't really love him, losing him wouldn't hurt as much.

Demetrius wished he knew how to at least hide his dissatisfaction with life. He spent many sleepless nights, looking outside at the sky. He sometimes wished he could fly to another planet, somewhere where a society advanced enough existed that could easily cure him of the disease. He would dream about the people of this planet. About the all the knowledge they had. All the problems of society that they already resolved centuries ago. They would teach him how to make his planet Earth a better place. Towards the end of the dream, Demetrius would feel inspired, ready to make change happen. Sadly, he would eventually wake up. All the advice shared in the dream would be forgotten, and Demetrius would still have HIV. No matter how many times he had this dream, he still cried when he woke up with reality in his face.