I got back to LA with my penis still attached and I catapulted at the chance of going on another tour. Anything to prevent more vaginiacal intercourse. I became fearful that my penis would fall off from misuse. It started as a nightmare, but then I became obsessed with the notion daily.

This tour would be better. Five men my age. Two were twins, who I'm sure played with each other. Another guy was an ex-football player from Seattle. He went by the name of Storm. I didn't have the confidence to ask his birth name.

And then there was George. There was no confusion in my mind that I was severely attracted to this man. George. Minutes after I met him I repeated his name, which did to my mind what color does to gray.

His premature salt-and-pepper hair comforted my soul while his smile inspired my tranquillity. "Nice to meet you." His warm hand touched me gently.

"Yes," I couldn't smile. I couldn't frown.

"I've heard about you."

"You have?"

"Yeah, you got married, right?"

I pulled my hand away quickly, and nodded with memory of my attachment. He felt the retreat.

*****

I wrote my speech in the morning and thought about it later while I walked through San Diego's Balboa Park by the motel. I sat on a green peeled bench whenI saw him approach.

"Hey." George awkwardly waited for me to respond. "My name is George."

"Yes, I know. My mind was just...well, you know."

"We got some hours to kill , huh?"

"Yeah."

"Did you eat?" He asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh, well. So did I. Just a burger. Does your room smell as bad as mine?"

"Like a donkey was in there." He smiled, beautifully. "You're bored, huh?"

"Tremendously so."

"Want to go to the zoo?"

I couldn't help but smile.

*****

Pink Flamingos are the first thing you see at the San Diego Zoo. From 100 yards, they remind me of cotton candy. Sweet, heavenly-like creatures, but as you get closer they're reality impedes your perspective. They're birds, dirty birds.

We stood at the plastic fence. Without looking at me, George asked, "Have you had any gay relationships?"

"Too many I guess. You?"

He shook his head, "No."

"Never?"

"Nope, never actually did it. Just thought about it all the time."

"Still?"

"Think about it? Oh, sure. I suppose that'll never completely go away, but I know I'll never do it now. I feel good about that."

"Funny, I feel good only when I admit I know nothing at all." I retorted.

"But isn't the idea to learn about yourself, to have a better understanding of how you work?"

I shrugged. We moved on.

We heard yells of desire before we came around the bend and saw the two and a half foot monkeys. A few swung from the manmadetrees, one sat in the middle of the den staring at all the human viewers, and on top of the pile of rocks were two monkeys screwing away with no regard for their audience.

George and I smiled at each other. It's funny how things hit you. After all my indecision, confusion and psychological bullshit-- at that momentfor some bizarre reason-- I knew in my soul who I was.

I was Greg. And I was gay man.

These monkeys continued with the freedom and inhibition of salmon swimming up stream.

"Check it out." And I nudged George's arm and nodded toward the monkeys. "They make no apologies, why should I?"

He looked at me and I knew I felt it. His desire. But as quickly as it came, he shied his head and walked away.