A Gap!

Hi folks! Will here. Telling a life story can be a bit challenging... especially, if you are trying to keep facts in an accurate timeline. I discovered that I had a gap between the ending of my last blog and the lead-in to my move to Florida.

Before I headed to sunny South Beach, my last year in the bleak and wintry northeast had some (of what I considered) warm and fuzzy parts to it, too. I made two friends... one from the gym and one from the legendary beach at Sandy Hook, N.J.

I was at a pivotal point with my musical/sales career. My position in the company had become increasingly political. My immediate supervisor/general manager was uncomfortable with my successes that were being noticed by the company's owner.

In my last year with them, I was shuffled around the stores like a game piece. And, the moves were not to bigger and better offerings. It was under the guise that I could "improve" these less profitable showrooms. With a waning income, I made my plans to bail from the company.

It was my friend from the gym who offered me a lead to another sales job - this time to a popular Northeast retail electronics chain. This liaison not only gave me a great opportunity for a smooth job move, but we also became roommates. It was perfect timing, in that I had not renewed my apartment lease after the "endless winter."

He was "the one that got away." Although proclaiming to be straight, he gave off the most intense sexual vibes. I thought he was very cute. He was medium in height, had a very tight, muscular body and had "nice junk," to boot! I never took advantage of this situation, as I wanted to keep the home front as secure as possible. But, I sure had my fantasies.

After mentioning that I frequented the nude beach at Sandy Hook, he became very curious and asked to come along to see what it was like. I said sure! So, we drove to "The Hook." My curiosity about him was piqued when after laying out our towels et al, he sprung a lovely woody! It took everything in me not to react in kind. I often look back and wonder why I didn't jump on him right there. But, I feared if anything got complicated, I would not only lose a friend but also my (temporary) home. I had already started making my plans to move south while living and working with him.

Another curious thing was that he took me to his parents' home in Staten Island. He introduced me as his "new friend" and roommate. I thought at our respective ages, 33 and 43, there might have been some shade thrown. But, they didn't bat an eye. Maybe I should have at least "tried something" with him. Still... cooler heads prevailed... mine, unfortunately!

And, from this very same beach came the person with whom I drove to Florida. We had started flirting the year before at Sandy Hook. I mentioned my intention to move south within a year or so. Surprisingly, he said he had thought about that, too. The next thing I knew, I had another quasi-sexual relationship in the works. We never did anything. It seemed like it was being "saved" for the future.

I had set September of 1994 as the travel date for my move to Florida. My beach buddy asked if he could join me. I said sure! Little did I know how ill-fated this journey would be.

Meanwhile, my other friend (and roommate) got ready for the split up. I had thanked him profusely for letting me share his apartment. There was an air of tension mixed with sadness in his behavior. Maybe I was right all along. I sure wish I had at least tempted fate!

In the weeks leading up to my leaving his apartment, he was fixated on trading cars with me. I couldn't figure it out. He had a nice red Toyota MR-2. I had a rather plain Toyota Tercel hatchback. Go figure. I think there was something up with the registration or title. But, the transfer of titles went without a hitch. And that's the car that I piled high with my belongings for the trip down the Eastern Seaboard. In retrospect, I think he wanted something of mine to remember me by.

My other friend and I stayed at his mother's house the night before we left for Florida. That night was as chilly as the overly air-conditioned bedroom where nothing physical happened between us. I should have paid attention to that harbinger.

We left the next morning, heading for I-95 South. He had a van that he had packed to the rafters. He was a rather slow driver. That became a point of contention. He asked why I was speeding and losing visual contact on the road. I wasn't speeding. By the time we reached our motel for the night, a fight was brewing.

I thought it was a little early for regrets. But, from then on the tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Tired from all the driving, we rented a motel room at the midpoint of the trip and slept in separate beds. And, by the time we reached our Miami condo sublet, we were in separate rooms. Need I say more?

We both circulated around South Beach looking for jobs. I lucked out with (what I considered) an excellent opportunity, which I will expand upon in the next installment. My friend did not enjoy the same luck. Within two weeks, he had decided to return home to N.J. We were staying with a friend of his - meaning I was shit out of luck and homeless in Miami!

This brings me right here, where I want to be - a place to correctly start the tale of my adventures in South Beach. Stay tuned!