Are You a Sex Addict or Just a Garden-Variety Whore?

Are You a Sex Addict or Just a Garden-Variety Whore? 

Ah, the eternal question every gay man asks of himself: Am I a sex addict or just a garden-variety whore? Let's take this quick quiz written by Woody (needwood@mac.com) at Hot Spots Magazine and find out.

Well. This one has a serious side to it, doesn't it? Now... when answering I would ask that you only consider your recent pre-Covid 19 behavior. Hopefully, given the dangers, you all are behaving yourself and sticking to extremely safe means in order to scratch that itch! 

For some answers, I am going to be reaching a bit further back. But I'm allowed. I have way more 'back' these days than 'forward'. 

But, yes... there is a serious side to this. Oh, don't worry! For those of you 'over the limit'? Woody offers some sage advice and a couple of resources to utilize at the end of the quiz.

Okay... umm. Gird your loins, boys. The truth? Oh, yeah... it can bite.

1/ Do you often feel powerless over your sexual behavior?

a. Yes (Points= 4 )
b. No (Points= 2)
c. Often (Points= 3)
d. Only when the hottie ain’t looking my way (Points= 1)

Powerless? Not anymore. There was a time when I was very concerned. I can be rather impulsive, especially when going through a manic phase. The more pressure in real life, the more I would seek out sex as some kind of release valve. But that was a good 15 years ago. See? Longevity is good for something - you can actually manage to outdistance your bad ass self if you live long enough!

These days? I don't take sex very seriously at all. What happens, happens... and if nothing happens? I go play piano. I take the dog for a walk. I read a good book. For I do, indeed, have better things to do.

In the bad old days? When I was keeping an excel spreadsheet and tallying stats for each year? Yeah. Something was very, very wrong there. See, you can't use sex as a means of escape because it robs it of all its fun. Sex should just be a physical activity you enjoy. Not a means of making yourself feel better about your shitty life choices. 

I have eliminated almost anything that causes me to feel pressure. I have a few obligations I take very seriously. But non-essential bullshit? Buh-bye. And no apologies. As my beloved Carly sings... I haven't got time for the pain.

Yes. See what I did there?

I done growed up a little.

2/ The worrisome behavior has been going on for:

a. A few weeks (Points= 2)
b. A few months (Points= 3)
c. A few years (Points= 4)
d. Since the earth started cooling (Points= 1)

Actually, I didn't become hyper-sexually active until I was in L.A. (age 35) and started learning about all the sex that was available. There are a couple of mens rooms in Santa Monica that I frequented so often, I could have had my mail delivered there. It was all new to me and news to me. I had no idea this stuff went on. I literally tripped over myself falling into it. Did I have fun? Oh, yeah. Tons. 

But on this side of things? I am just shaking my damn head. 

And then the internet developed in such a way that hooking up was like shopping at Amazon. Again... totally hooked. And clueless. But, oh... don't you worry. Cuz I sure did get me an education. Mmm hmm. 

Paid the price for it, too. Numerous times. Stay tuned, children. 

(And you thought this was going to be easy?)

3/ Have you lost friendships, relationships or jobs because of your sexual escapades?

a. Just the ones that counted (Points= 1)
b. No (Points= 2)
c. I’ve come close (Points= 3)
d. Yes (Points= 4)

Yes. I told you about my ex-bestie, the ice queen, who was interested in this guy, but had never spoken to this guy, and then the guy hit me up on-line and I turned to my friend and asked - "Mother, may I dance with danger?" And the queen said... you do what you want. And so I asked again... like four times before I figured... know what? You two have been best buds for 20 years. You're gonna have to take him at his word. Also, the dude was hot - like fantasy prison sex hot: muscles for days, tats, bald, mean old goatee and a dick 'a death. So, yeah... I fucked him. Like I'm gonna get a chance at something like that again?

  

And I would do it again. 

Another friend that I lost was because we both worked at the same place and I think he got fired when I got fired because we were both, ummmm... yeah, read on... 

Oh, and the job thing? Yeah. Confession. Best job I ever had. Corporate retail gig. Managing the mock store - where we constructed all the new store floor designs before implementation? Working with carpenters and electricians and vendors. Loved it. Umm... Yeah. Under my five year reign, that place was pretty much my own private bathhouse. But it was my internet activity that brought it all crashing down. Damn. I mean, had cell phones, Scruff, and Grindr existed back then? I'd still be working for that ratty ass company. Maybe. I mean, ask the Mistress, with the beach-sized balls. She can tell you all about the crappy things retail companies do to employees in order to show a profit.

That said. Now? Cell phones, Scruff, and Grindr do exist. And I am much more careful, picky, and prone to minimize potential risk. I mean...

Yes, I eat at my desk. 

And I may order food at my desk...

...but I do not eat at my desk.

That lesson? Learned.

4/ Have you ever been arrested or put yourself at risk of being arrested for your sexual activities?

a. Yes, but only because I’m the author of “Who Moved My Soap: The Gay Man’s Guide to Surviving in Prison” (Points= 1)
b. No (Points= 2)
c. Yes (Points= 4)
d. I’ve come close (Points= 3)

Oh, my gawd. Why am I doing this to myself? 

Because. It is time to get honest with myself (and you). 

All the years I have been sharing my exploits and do you really think that there have not been repercussions and consequences? And I'm not talking STIs, honey.

Get real. Because I am about to.

And if you think less of me after learning this... well, I understand. Because, and trust me on this, I thought a whole lot less of me at the time. Yes, I did.

I have had many close calls, and two really close calls. 

1/ Caught blowing a dude in the woods. They actually had us down on the ground in hand cuffs and... for some magical reason... they let us go. No ticket. Nothing. It was weird, but I took it as a sign to find me a new park. 

And I did.

2/ We're in a parking lot at this park where I used to be notorious. I mean, I ran the damn place. There was a fat, sweaty-ass, out of shape vice cop who had my number. And he had it out for me. But I remained cocky. 

So, there I am, butt-naked, pounding my ass on some dude's dick in the cab of his monster truck. My back is to the windshield, and we are about to hit oil when the dude says... "Shit. Cop's coming." Cock still inserted, I turn my head around and they are about a half mile away. I have no idea what they can see, but it is obvious they are coming to check us out (I don't know how sturdy the suspension was on his truck, but pretty sure I had that thing bouncing). I roll off him to the passenger side and realize they are now so close, I can't grab my clothes from the floor of the cab and put them back on without drawing suspicion. So I tell the dude... don't do anything. The cops park in a spot directly behind us about twenty feet away. And we play the waiting game. For what felt like forever. 

Eventually, still naked, I tell the dude to drive... out of the park and across the way to a nearby business center, so I can get dressed. He does... and they follow us. And stop following us once we leave the park. Phew. Right? Except my car is back in that parking lot. Anyway. I get dressed and we wait across the road, watching the cops. They cruise the other parking lots. When they get to the far end one, I say... "Hell, let's get this over with. Drop me at my car." 

We no sooner enter the park and the cops are on us. I tell the dude to just drop me off at the first parking lot and I would walk to my car. I am out and heading down a hill to a trail that leads to the parking lot where my car is, when a cop gets out and stops me, asking for my ID. I explain that it's in my bag which is in my car. He tells me he needs to see it and I just say, sure thing and continue walking down the hill to the trail, knowing that the cop is not going to want to get all sweaty and follow on foot. I get to my car before he arrives in his vehicle. I hand him my ID and never ask why he wants it. He looks at it, runs it, comes back... tells me some bullshit about people complaining about illicit activities taking place in the park. Well, he's talking to one of 'em. But he's got nothing and can't do anything. Not even ban me from the park... so I slide. I count my blessing (singular) and totally blow off this big red flag that has just been thrown in my face.  Sigh. Well, I can't help it if I've a body for sin and a brain filled with stupid.

I have been arrested three times.

Two of those times were mens rooms in downtown Minneapolis, where, fortunately, people are enlightened enough not to take things too seriously. In Minneapolis, you get a ticket and a summons to appear in court. You go in, bow your head, say you're sorry, get your sentence reduced to a petty misdemeanor which, if you keep your nose clean for a few years, drops off your record and disappears, pay your fine and some court costs.

The first time was not bad. Cops were nice. I made the mistake of getting a lawyer from St. Paul. No. Always get a lawyer who knows everybody in the courthouse you are set to appear in. I did this the second time and things went much easier. Also, my second lawyer was gay, handles tons of cases like this a year and thinks it should not be a crime at all. I felt bad. It was a horrible thing to go through both times.

Oh, that first time? Yeah. It cost me a job I had been offered (and accepted) with... wait for the irony... the MPD. I was going to do all the powerpoints and presentations for the sex offender notification program.  

Ummm... yeah. They found out. And the Cheif of Police himself rescinded the offer.

Oh, and the second time? I got nabbed by a vice cop who is notorious for spending his time off in dirty bookstores trying to get guys to expose themselves! He told me that if I gave him the name of all my pedophile friends that he could get this little incident - which wasn't an incident at all because I actually got up, left my stall without exposing myself and went to wash my hands, when he 'nabbed' me - go away. I told him that just like the hetero world, that less than 5% of gay folk are pedophiles and that I did not know any. He then told me not to protest my arrest because he would make things very bad for me if he had to show up in court and testify against me. I shared this with my lawyer who told me, yeah... that cop? He does shit like that all the time. 

So, I really did clean up my act. Sort of. I stopped playing in mens rooms and graduated to public parks!

I stopped going to the first park I mentioned because (well, I almost got arrested and) I started to run into the other gay guys who worked where I worked (the corporate retail gig) plus the dudes who I used to work with when I did theater. Both? Big turn offs. So after my little almost arrest - I moved my action to another county. 

Big mistake.

Yes, I ended up running that park like a sexual mafia don for three years. Was brazen as can be. Had the time of my life - many of those exploits are written up here on this blog. 

But the problem is... that different county? Umm. They viewed sucking cock in public a lot differently than Hennepin County. In fact, they are the most homophobic county in the metro area, a little something I didn't realize. See, the park is actually half in Hennepin and half in another county. But they might as well be countries, not counties, because that is how different they treat gay men who trick in parks. 

I would recount in great detail all that transpired, but... I am currently not in the mood to re-traumatize myself. And traumatize it did. That arrest triggered a ton of real poor choices on my part and was actually at the heart of why I stopped blogging. 

I will tell you all about it... some day. Soon. Cuz, hell, I've gone this far and if you're still reading... then why not?  But today, is not the day. Let's just say, that incident was enough to scare me from ever doing anything remotely risky in that county ever again. It also led to my return to the prairie... which is in Hennepin county and out in the middle of some woods. So, while I continue to play outdoors... I hedge my bets a bit and minimize my risks as much as possible. 

And for those of you who say... see, that is exactly why I never play outdoors or in parks? 

Know what? For you? That is the exact right answer. You listen to yourself and do what your self tells you. 

Because you are right. 

Like heroin and the ice capades... 

This shit is not for everyone.

And for those of you who say: See? He got what he deserved!

Fuck you.

Self righteousness is SO unbecoming!

5/ Do you find yourself having to take more and more risks, needing more frequency and variety, to get the same kind of sexual/emotional high?

a. Yes (Points= 4)
b. No (Points= 2)
c. Sometimes. (Points= 3)
d. There just aren’t enough willing fists (Points= 1)

There was a time when I would have answered this differently. But now, on this side of things... what? Are you kidding? Sadly, I find myself saying - been there, done that - to almost every sexual thing possible. I mean, there are definite big NO's, right? And I have adhered to them. But I have indeed done more than my fair share of sexual exploration. 

These days? 

I'd rather have a sandwich. 

6/ Are you keeping secrets about what you’re doing or where you’re going? Do feel like you’re leading a double life?

a. I frequently pretend I’m a top (Points= 1)
b. Yes (Points= 4)
c. No (Points= 2)
d. Starting to (Points= 3)

Well, yes. Of course. 

I am, or was, until Covid, a sexually active gay male. 

I do all sorts of things I don't want my loved ones knowing about. What goes on at the prairie? Stays at the prairie. And for good reason. I don't want to be lectured. I also don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. 

I share my adventures on this blog. And I share them with my work wife - at happy hour, once a month - after my first cocktail. But I share less and less with people (except on this blog - which they don't know about). 

All my life, I have had the ability to compartmentalize. My feelings. My focus. My desires. Each person in my life is granted access to different parts of me. That's why, when I leave this earth? No one... and I mean, not a soul, will be able to say they truly know me. 

Because that's the thing about keeping secrets from a very young age... you just keep getting better and better at keeping them.

7/ Do you spend more than 11 hours a week in online sex chat rooms or downloading porn?

a. Yes (Points= 4)
b. No (Points= 2)
c. Yes, but only because the guys online are so honest and sincere. (Points= 1)

I haven't been on Scruff or Grinder since mid-June. I don't miss it. 

Before that? I would be on-line reading profiles. But I read profiles the way some people read recipes. You know... oh, that sounds nice. Oh, I bet I could make that. Oh, that there looks easy. Oh, I have all that stuff at home. Oh, that's a little out of my league. 

Yes. I am someone who reads recipes with almost no intention of cooking. 

So, those apps? They are for entertainment purposes only. And I never pay for it, satisfied with the free versions.

And porn on-line? No. Never did anything for me, really. I mean, I can appreciate a nice pic and some nice equipment... but that is not going to get my motor running. Uh-huh. I only play in the real world, kids. If anything has brought that point to home? It's my failed attempt at bringing dildos into the mix.

Brings to mind a term Martha uses in Edward Albee's masterpiece, Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?... but, now that I think about it... it might be considered racist. (Who among you knows what I am referencing? If you know it... leave the answer in the comments section. I will be duly impressed.)

And now that I am blogging again? Tracking down all these photos? Oh, my. It has even less of an effect on my libido. I mean, it's a little like the dude who works in a bakery; after a point a doughnut isn't food... it's 79 cents.

Know what I mean?

8/ Are you having a hard time paying bills because of the money you’re spending on internet/phone sex or porn?

a. Yes (Points= 4)
b. No (Points= 2)
c. Sometimes (Points= 3)
d. I’ve signed up for so much gay porn my ISP thinks I’m a priest. (Points= 1)

LOL. 

First rule about fight club? Don't talk about fight club.

First rule about the internet? Never pay for porn.

Why? Why in the world does anybody pay for porn? It is everywhere. Free. Tons of free stuff. Something for everyone. Every taste, every kink, every niche. 

So... what is it people are paying for? 

No. I'd rather donate my money to the local animal humane society. Or the local wildlife rescue association.

No way I am supporting these gym bunnies and their need for electrolysis. Let 'em go to a local gay bar and shake their moneymaker, the way the good lawd intended. They could consider it community service.

Or charity work.

9/ Does your sexual behavior give you an incredible high followed by a lonely, despairing crash?

a. Yes (Points= 4)
b. No (Points= 2)
c. Sometimes (Points= 3)
d. Yeah, but it’s the price you pay for being born with a brain and a penis and only enough blood to run one at a time. (Points= 1)

I think that used to happen when I was convinced that I was lonely. I was never alone. But I thought I was lonely. 

Turns out? That script belonged to someone else. I think it might have belonged to The Catholic Church. You know... sex is bad. You should feel bad. Shame on you. You are bad.

Well, fuck that. 

And that.

And that.

And... oh yeah! Definitely that...

Score Assessment

1-9 You call that a problem? I call it a weekday.

10-18 Sex Addict? Please. You’re a garden-variety whore.

19-27 Christ, you’re a hormone on hoofs! If you’re not worrying, START.

28-36 You might be a sex addict. 

My score: 21. So the low end of hormone hoofs. 

That has got a lot to do with some very old behavior. 

And that has to do with my age. 

But mainly the fact that I chose the funny answer, as opposed to "no" in order to avoid being labeled a sex addict. I mean, why the hell does 'no' garner two points? Or any points for that matter? Something is not right with this scoring mechanism. I formally protest. 

See, I am actually just a garden-variety whore. 

And a proud one. 

I have made my mistakes. I have paid the price (several times). I mean, hell, I could have bought a nice car for all the money I have spent on lawyers. 

But it was all worth it. 

And, yes. I think I did have a problem at one point. If it's not fun? If you're not truly enjoying it? Then why are you doing it? 

Oh, don't get me wrong. I still believe in charity work and mercy sex... especially since I am fast approaching an age when I am going to be relying on the kindness of strangers. (And subtle lighting.) 

(Oh, who am I kidding? Sigh.) 

(Darkened rooms.)

(Oh, alright.)

(Dark rooms.)

But I am past the point of using sex as something to fill me up or fix me or stop me from feeling bad, I mean, hell...

...that's why gin exists. 

--- ---

On a serious note... here is the sage advice and a couple of resources to utilize if you think you, or a loved one, might have an issue that needs to be addressed. 

Here’s what you need to do:

• Find a good sex therapist. Look in the yellow pages or call your health insurance provider for someone in your plan.
• Attend Sex Addicts Anonymous meetings. Go to their website for more info: www.sexaa.org
• Read books on the subject. The best one: Out of the Shadows by Patrick Carnes.

I Haven't Got Time for the Pain - Carly Simon

Police On My Back - The Equals