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Noom, my bar boy friend and current love of my life, is flexible in his sexuality. In the Western world, he’d probably be considered bisexual. But then in the Western world he’d probably not be peddling his ass to gay men for a living, so maybe not. Generally, to Thais, it doesn’t matter who you sleep with whether for money or for fun. They seem to be secure in their sexuality to the point that individual acts don’t raise any concern. Regardless of how many or how often those acts occur.

I don’t think I’ve ever asked Noom if he was gay, straight, or bi. Nor has he ever specifically laid claim to any of those labels. That he is straight has always been a given. That he is straight has never really entered into the picture. That he is straight has never intruded into the bedroom. So who cares?

I’ve never understood those who say they only want to off gay bar boys, that the idea of offing a straight bar boy is repulsive to them. A bar boys’ sexuality has nothing to do with his performance. And that it is a performance is something you have to keep in mind. Just because a bar boy may be gay does not mean he is going to enjoy being with you any more than if he were straight. Besides, how can you really tell which are straight and which are gay? Unless you are relying on stereotypical gay mannerisms. Which anytime a straight man brings up those little obvious tells, those same punters scream and shout about homophobia.

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Trying to deduce how Noom feels about his sexual identity is an iffy proposition. Anytime you try to read something into a situation it can be dicey. And faulty as well. He tends to align himself with his vision of who and what I am, often using ‘we’ to describe our relationship in the gay world, or when meeting someone who is gay will say, “He like us.” Still, if you asked him if he was gay he’d say no. But then he doesn’t consider me to be either. Regardless of my total lack of interest in women. You may think establishing who is or isn’t gay in our relationship would be a worthy conversation. But Noom would fall back on a bit of sage Thai advice instead: “You tink too much.”

I would concur with the anti straight bar boy punters if Noom spent all of his time ogling women. Instead, he hardly ever notices them. He spends his time on my computer ogling bodybuilders. And has no problem pointing out an especially attractive man we pass on the street. He has a great affinity for gay shop clerks, and will snub a female employee in favor of dealing with a gay one. Outside of the bedroom, he’s more gay than I am. If I had to label him, I’d go with bisexual. And even tried that label on for size once, though I should have known broaching that subject would be a non-starter.

“I think maybe you are bi,” I told Noom

“What we buy?”

Well, okay, you can’t say he isn’t consistent. You could say he is dense. But in this case Noom was purposefully misunderstanding as a defense against a conversation he really didn’t want to have. He may not use the labels we are familiar with in the Western world, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know what they mean. Thais, both gay and straight, communicate a lot by not communicating. There is a lot that you are supposed to know, without it being said. Conversely, when they do decide to communicate, you should pay attention. And the closest conversation we’ve ever had about his life as a straight man I totally blew off at the time. It’s no wonder farang infuriate Thais so often.

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We were in Chiang Mai, which is always a holiday for both of us. In Bangkok, I often have business obligations that must be dealt with. And, I guess he does too. Noom’s part of the equation is that he feels an obligation to haul my ass to his bar as often as possible, a give for his boss, not only scoring a multiple night off fee for the bar but having the customer return to buy more and more drinks is both good for Noom’s status and for the bar owner’s pocketbook.

I’m always surprised when Noom shares about the bar world and how it operates. It’s one of those areas where his normal sense of caution tells him to keep the fantasy alive in any customer’s mind. But one night when I balked at hitting his bar yet again, he was straight up with me in explaining why it was important. It’s always nice to know you are needed. In reply, I asked him if I could just send my wallet instead. So you’d think he’d know when to slap me and tell me whatever subject he’s addressing is serious. But when you are on holiday, everyone throws caution to the wind.

We were staying at the Montri next to the Tha Pae Gate. One afternoon when we’d come back from being out and about Noom decided he wanted to climb to the top of the wall and have his picture taken. No biggy, when we are on a holiday Noom wants his picture taken everywhere. When he bounced back down the steep, crumbly set of narrow stairs, as though we’d been in the middle of a conversation (which inside of his head we had been) he said, “I married.”

“What?”

“Not now.”

“What?”

“Now I divorce.”

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Huh. Really. My brain is not that riddled. It was just the non-sequitur of non-sequiturs. It was out of the blue. And I often have to translate what he is saying into what he means anyway. But I wasn’t putting two and two together. While my mind was trying to comprehend that what I’d just heard was what I had just heard, not to mention wondering about why I had just heard it, my mouth, as it often does, went ahead and tried an ad-lib, “I guess we need to find you a girlfriend then.”

My mouth got a frown for its efforts. And then, in a rare display that shows Noom can not only speak in full sentences but coherent paragraphs, he went on to explain that he didn’t want a girlfriend, that he didn’t want a wife, that he was happy, and that women only cause problems. His version was a bit more involved with much greater detail. He ended his rant with a rather disgusted, “Dey just want my money.”

Actually his rant ended right after that, with a snort that showed just what he thought of their greed as well as their chance of success. My mind had no problem comprehending the idea of a Thai wanting money. And every known language in the world has a word for gold-digger. Having both wrapped up in one body must be a real terror. Straight mens’ lives really suck.

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Of course once it struck home that my boytoy had just sworn off women as well as having just owned up to a certain degree of straightness in having once had a wife, I immediately empathized, sympathized, and had a long talk with him about his life, prospects, and future. At least I did six months later when I replayed that conversation in my head. In the real world, without any further comment on the matter, we went back to our hotel and had sex.

A few months later we were in Chiang Mai again. This time with my lesbian friends, whom Noom was busy bonding with. Helena had managed to get Noom’s wallet away from him (which might explain why most of us consider Helena to be a goddess) and was busy thumbing through its contents. When she hit on a picture of two cute little girls and asked Noom who they were he had no problem with answering, “My daughter.”

One of Helena’s eyebrows shot skyward. And Noom quickly shot back, “I tell him!”

And so he had. Rather than rely on Noom’s preferred method of communicating in two to three word sentences, I took the time to explain to Helena that Noom had told me he was married, divorced, had two kids, still saw them, and occasionally had to have sex with his ex-wife to keep her happy so he could see his kids. Perhaps TMI. Poor Helena had only been curious about the identity of the two little girls. But it suddenly sunk in how important it had been to him to have told me about his past/current marital status. And he was mortified that one of my friends would think that he’d keep something like that from me.

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Yeah, so I can be a little dense. I’m a guy. What can I say? Since then we have talked about his marriage, it’s ups and downs and his feelings about his ex, whom I’ve now met. More importantly I’ve met Noom’s daughters. Mom was a necessary evil, a tagalong. Which was quite evident. Noom has been straight up with me about who he is. Even though doing so risks that fantasy. Sometime, it just takes a while for it to sink in.

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