LGBT, Gay, Writing, Poetry, Journal, Snark


I hated the Boy Scouts. At least by the time I hit high school I did. I was forced into a leadership position I didn’t want and didn’t like. The position of Senior Patrol Leader for the Troop seemed like a horrible excuse to have a target painted on your back. Everything that went wrong was always your fault and the other kids always came up with new and interesting trouble to get into for the parents to blame on me. Just a lovely way to spend my oh so plentiful spare time…

One of those herding maneuvers that got pulled on me by the ’adult’ leaders was getting sucked into the Order of the Arrow. It was supposed to be a subgroup that a guy is voted into and there had to be at least two qualified people to vote for or against. I was it. There wasn’t another guy. I certainly didn’t campaign for entry into that farce of an extension. I frankly wasn’t interested. Sure, it was the year of the Boy Scout’s Diamond Jubilee. Oh joy. And we got tapped out in a ceremony at the regional camping event for most of two counties. Gosh, golly.

I remember just being tired. Riding herd on the younger troop members all day and then getting stuck with that ceremonial farce. It didn’t do anything for me. It didn’t make me feel special. I wasn’t thrilled or excited. I was just tired and wanted to sleep. Naturally, they wanted us awake for the night. Again I say, joy.

A couple months later made up for it a little. Those of us tapped at the regional ceremony needed to participate in an Ordeal. We spent the weekend cleaning some campground with all of those that were tapped at the same time. Yawn. Oh and we had to do it all in complete silence. Not too much of an issue for me, in my anti-social mode, that was a blessing.

It gave me plenty of opportunity to ogle guys in perfect safety. After all, you need to pay attention pretty closely when using nonverbal communication to get things done. This one guy really caught my attention. Gorgeous, simply stunningly sexy hot. And assigned to the same crew I was. It made up for having to put up with all of the rest of it. This guy could have gone on to be an underwear model easily… for designer stuff, not JC Pennys. We clicked pretty well, staying near each other that whole day.

The clincher for me, and I still have it tucked away, were the nasty, naughty notes we passed back and forth when we were supposed to be listening to lengthy lectures on Scouting. Extremely provocative notes. To some degree, hazing each other in that young male exerting manhood by bullshit and name-calling way. Being called a cocksucker on paper didn’t phaze me in the least. Nor did the things I said he did cause him to so much as blink. The object was to get one of us to break that stupid silence. Neither of us did, though we went back and forth for a good hour and at least both sides of two pieces of paper.

I admit it, I had a total lusting crush on him by the end of the day. Our banter, nasty as it was, turned me on. And all without an actual word said. All of this happening right under the nose of the adults. They were totally oblivious. Frankly, so were we. Our focus was entirely on each other. Everything else just kind of faded into the background. The day ended, more ceremonial crap and then sleep. We took off for home the next morning.

I didn’t get his phone number or name or even troop number. I never got to see him again. But I also will never forget him. Nor will I throw away the notes we wrote each other. I don’t think he realized that I didn’t throw them away. Easy enough to slip them in my back pocket after carefully folding them. They are just the nasty crap teenage boys say to each other when trying for shock value… but they went a little different direction for me. It was my first experience at flirting. And I loved it!

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