Sad, Gay, and High on MDA (An anime con field report supplemental)
Posted: Wed Jan 29, 2020 8:27 pm
Below is a report I wrote up while working at an anime convention. I'm not going to edit or review it because I'm fucking lazy.
Presented below in the original context, half written in a hotel bathroom I give you, a story about a guy named James:
The cast:
Dylan: a DJ/Waiter and recreational drug enthusiast.
Shelby: A 'sturdy' midwest white girl. Wife of Dylan. Waitress/Bartender by trade. In her late 20's early 30's.
James: James is what Hollywood raised the 2020 gay man to be. Sassy, drug addicted, effeminate, etc. He's living the life of a stereotype written for him by some marketing company. (But he is a great guy).
I'm rooming with a fella named Dylan. Dylan is married to Shelby, but she's not here this weekend because of work. However their friend James IS here.
Now I figured these two were just drug buddies (Dylan and James). They hang around, and have that chemistry of two friends who spend a lot of time together. Live at each others house, go on escapades, hold each others hair while the other is puking etc. etc
We've been getting to know each other since Wednesday. I'd have a tequila and they'd go to smoke weed in the paring lot. I'd take a few sips and they'd offer me some MDA. I'd still be drinking that tequila and they'd be crushing up some pill. I'd be close to finishing that drink and I'd have another chance at that MDA.
Later they’d pull out tabs of gel acid and I’m still riding the straight edge. Basically the last three days have been a non-stop no thank you to the type of lifestyle that leads three midwesterners with no real adult responsibilities to speak of in life to live together in a bug infested apartment.
With the stage set:
Last night me and James are drinking together. He’s also doing MDA and trying to strong arm me into doing the same, but that’s never happening. We drink some more and he does a bump or whatever you call it, he gives some to another friend who just taught me what boofing means, and we decide to head to the event DJ’s room.
A dark man named Rahji (nickname) is crushing up and snorting something before disappearing into the night. (I think he very rightfully hates me for something I did years ago but tries to play it off like it’s friendly bants, however I can’t remember for the life of me, so I’m going to assume it’s justified.)
So the stage lights dim and center on me and James sitting opposite one another in a room full of DJ equipment and illegal narcotics.
And from here out I can’t think of how to make an interesting narrative out of the night but here’s what’s happening.
I ask James that Dylan mentioned something about the Russian lesbian we are sharing the room with prying deep into Dylan’s life. Me being a little gossip I want to know more. (I’m addicted to observing social interactions)
(Second side bar: these conventions are just full of people with complicated lives that get offended if you care, are interested, or don’t understand what’s going on)
James: “yeah she’s Russian so she still doesn’t understand a lot, and was asking about me, Dylan, and Shelby”
Now knowing that prying is in bad form, I nod, say I understand and prepare to move on.
James continues. See James says Shelby refers to him as “My husbands boyfriend” He wasn’t asked. He’s been Living with them half of the time for a while now, and accidentally fell into this without knowing what the hell is going on.
He spends the night, all three of them share a bed, and no one has really said how or why this started. Apparently one night he just blacked out an MDA And woke up playing hot seat with Dylan’s cock.
Now he’s somehow become an inseparable part of the marriage even though he never asked to be.
Now he’s stuck in their apartment most days, and can’t leave. If he’s gone the other to start fighting, so he’s the de facto marital aid for them. Even better, the wife regulates who he’s allowed to sleep with. By which she means, only her and Dylan.
He’s visibly distressed.
No one ever asked him if he was OK being a part of this agreement, he just sucked a dick and ended up part of a weird sex group.
He wants to go home and see his cats but he doesn’t own a car and needs to ask them. He’s too meek most times so he just stays. No one ever asks him how he is, no one asks if he wants to go home, and how he can’t even get dick when he wants unless it belongs to a married black man.
He’s ended up a reverse cuck. Trapped in a loop of doing ecstasy and fucking his best friend for his wife’s pleasure.
And I haven’t said a word for almost 20 minutes while he tells me about this.
It's been a month since this happened. From what I remember he just sort of petered out and said we should go and meet up with someone else. So we left the other DJ's room, and went on.
The rest of the weekend he never brought it up, meaning this might all be a black out.
I feel bad in a big way for him. Maybe later I'll navel gaze about how these lifestyles are unhealthy, or maybe we don't understand them, or whatever. But it was definitely a candid look into someones life I didn't really want or need.
Presented below in the original context, half written in a hotel bathroom I give you, a story about a guy named James:
The cast:
Dylan: a DJ/Waiter and recreational drug enthusiast.
Shelby: A 'sturdy' midwest white girl. Wife of Dylan. Waitress/Bartender by trade. In her late 20's early 30's.
James: James is what Hollywood raised the 2020 gay man to be. Sassy, drug addicted, effeminate, etc. He's living the life of a stereotype written for him by some marketing company. (But he is a great guy).
I'm rooming with a fella named Dylan. Dylan is married to Shelby, but she's not here this weekend because of work. However their friend James IS here.
Now I figured these two were just drug buddies (Dylan and James). They hang around, and have that chemistry of two friends who spend a lot of time together. Live at each others house, go on escapades, hold each others hair while the other is puking etc. etc
We've been getting to know each other since Wednesday. I'd have a tequila and they'd go to smoke weed in the paring lot. I'd take a few sips and they'd offer me some MDA. I'd still be drinking that tequila and they'd be crushing up some pill. I'd be close to finishing that drink and I'd have another chance at that MDA.
Later they’d pull out tabs of gel acid and I’m still riding the straight edge. Basically the last three days have been a non-stop no thank you to the type of lifestyle that leads three midwesterners with no real adult responsibilities to speak of in life to live together in a bug infested apartment.
With the stage set:
Last night me and James are drinking together. He’s also doing MDA and trying to strong arm me into doing the same, but that’s never happening. We drink some more and he does a bump or whatever you call it, he gives some to another friend who just taught me what boofing means, and we decide to head to the event DJ’s room.
A dark man named Rahji (nickname) is crushing up and snorting something before disappearing into the night. (I think he very rightfully hates me for something I did years ago but tries to play it off like it’s friendly bants, however I can’t remember for the life of me, so I’m going to assume it’s justified.)
So the stage lights dim and center on me and James sitting opposite one another in a room full of DJ equipment and illegal narcotics.
And from here out I can’t think of how to make an interesting narrative out of the night but here’s what’s happening.
I ask James that Dylan mentioned something about the Russian lesbian we are sharing the room with prying deep into Dylan’s life. Me being a little gossip I want to know more. (I’m addicted to observing social interactions)
(Second side bar: these conventions are just full of people with complicated lives that get offended if you care, are interested, or don’t understand what’s going on)
James: “yeah she’s Russian so she still doesn’t understand a lot, and was asking about me, Dylan, and Shelby”
Now knowing that prying is in bad form, I nod, say I understand and prepare to move on.
James continues. See James says Shelby refers to him as “My husbands boyfriend” He wasn’t asked. He’s been Living with them half of the time for a while now, and accidentally fell into this without knowing what the hell is going on.
He spends the night, all three of them share a bed, and no one has really said how or why this started. Apparently one night he just blacked out an MDA And woke up playing hot seat with Dylan’s cock.
Now he’s somehow become an inseparable part of the marriage even though he never asked to be.
Now he’s stuck in their apartment most days, and can’t leave. If he’s gone the other to start fighting, so he’s the de facto marital aid for them. Even better, the wife regulates who he’s allowed to sleep with. By which she means, only her and Dylan.
He’s visibly distressed.
No one ever asked him if he was OK being a part of this agreement, he just sucked a dick and ended up part of a weird sex group.
He wants to go home and see his cats but he doesn’t own a car and needs to ask them. He’s too meek most times so he just stays. No one ever asks him how he is, no one asks if he wants to go home, and how he can’t even get dick when he wants unless it belongs to a married black man.
He’s ended up a reverse cuck. Trapped in a loop of doing ecstasy and fucking his best friend for his wife’s pleasure.
And I haven’t said a word for almost 20 minutes while he tells me about this.
It's been a month since this happened. From what I remember he just sort of petered out and said we should go and meet up with someone else. So we left the other DJ's room, and went on.
The rest of the weekend he never brought it up, meaning this might all be a black out.
I feel bad in a big way for him. Maybe later I'll navel gaze about how these lifestyles are unhealthy, or maybe we don't understand them, or whatever. But it was definitely a candid look into someones life I didn't really want or need.