Byron, like a lot of closet cases, has a bad habit.
ME: You get drunk, have sex with a boy, then pretend you don't remember anything about it the next day.
So perhaps I've started cutting to the chase a little bit more.
ME: Don't play dumb. I may not drink, but I'm friends with some of the best.
ME: You are using alcohol as an excuse to do the wrong thing because the next day you can blame it all on the--?
ME: You got it.
I decided a little aversion therapy was in order.
I took Byron to a party, and gave him his instructions.
ME: I want you to do everything you would do when you're drunk, but not have anything to drink.
I wanted Byron to own up to what it is he wants.
He wants to have sex with guys.
If he can do it drunk, he can do it sober.
(FRIENDS: Not necessarily.)
After two hours of partying, Byron was still sitting in a corner munching on a potato chip.
ME: So what have we learned?
BYRON: That I'm a wimp?
ME: No, that you use alcohol as a crutch.
BYRON: Well, yeah, I'm in college.
ME: From now on, the crutch is gone. Time for you to learn how to walk, little homo.
BYRON: Can I have a drink first?
Yeah, I'm cruel sometimes.
Blogging ain't easy.