Of all the gay men I have been lucky enough to know and love in the many States I've lived in, few have been sexist. But this one blew into the building to lock in a promotion. He was supposedly the area manager. And although the building I've loved for two years is often a mess, sometimes because of the wonderful messy kids, and others because this place doesn't get cleaned, he even had the carpets cleaned, making sure everything was ship-shape for investor and wheda inspections.
Meanwhile, he tutored our adorable new manager, the one who accidentally gave out eviction notices a few months ago when she started, but who was sooo smart and clever and innovative; then she vanished after he had charmingly trained her in the job - leaving behind the clever posters she had made and her incredible gift of solving problems for those who rent here. At least, she had always been available by phone or text even when she wasn't here.
He goose-stepped around, making sure everything looked ship-shape and left a thousand notes on our doors day and night, announcing various reasons to enter our units and documents we were supposed to redo and sign. When I said I had downloaded a document, he laughed and said that was improbable.
Then the inspection came, and he and several managers came in, including a blond 55 year old woman who wouldn't give her name but had the audacity to ask if I had just started drawing the art gift I've been trying to fit in all my complicated life of moving. Several others blew into my apartment with her and they all stood staring at me like a sea horse behind glass for 20 minutes. I sensed something deeply disturbing about them.
After that, they promoted him, and everything remains broken, even the downstairs intercom that's supposed to let people into the building (which hasn't been fixed for at least 4 months). Then he danced off like Loretta Young in an old movie to his promotion vacation, after hiring yet another building manager he didn't train, who put yet another 5-day eviction notice on my perfect-tenant, rent-always-on time door, and is now unreachable even to her. Meanwhile, I gathered with other tenants who were sitting in the main hallway with their 5-day notices and not a supervisor or manager around. One older woman was crying.
And the thing is, although sometimes gay men don't really like women for some reasons, I've found them to be irreplaceable gifted artists of the world and life (think Leonardo), and good, funny, fun friends. And those I've known have not demeaned women or ignored them when there's trouble. At times, they've even saved me - even saved my life - and protected me from what they call the "macho men I shouldn't be around but who have always been attracted to me."
But now I still have the unsolved eviction notice with tomorrow being day 5, broken intercom (people can't get into or out of the building), and worse - his parting gift - turning this pricelessly diverse place into a senior building, the main thing I moved here to get away from. No more charming children and diligent parents in an environment perfect for all ages and races, especially people of color. No gay men I've known before would ever do that to me or my tenant neighbors. That's segregation!
I guess there's always a first time.
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