How I met my Cubby
It may come as a shock, but I have spent the majority of my young life single. I have been in three major relationships. Although one could arguably be considered a short romance, with lots of sex after the break up. There have also been a number of men in my life who I had intimate experiences with but the relationship wasn’t very deep or fulfilling. But this story isn’t about all of them. This story is about my Jorge, aka Joe Cubbenstein, aka Cubby.
To really begin this tale, I have to put a few things in perspective. First, I had moved here from South Carolina and had been living in Fort Lauderdale for a little over a year. My experience within the gay community was loosely based off of what I learned from other gay men in South Carolina and what I saw in TV and movies. I was told Fort Lauderdale was a gay mecca, one that would accept me with open arms and sloppy kisses. I came to south Florida with hopes that I would find a new life with fresh adventures. I kept telling myself that the reason I felt so alone and discouraged in South Carolina was because I didn’t belong there and I needed to live somewhere else and try something new. There are so many men down here, and most of them find guys my type to be irresistible. I don’t mean that to sound arrogant, but I’m kind of in the middle when it comes to bears and muscle guys. I’m also a nice guy generally who will befriend anyone. So, the majority of both groups found me to be attractive. Well put together white boys seemed to be a delicacy down here.
During my first year down here, I was like a hurricane. I would go out 3 or 4 nights a week, despite having two jobs and very little money. I was hooking up with a lot of couples. I discovered this huge age disparity in the gay community down here. There were lots of older guys with money and lots of younger guys who didn’t have their shit together. Don’t get me wrong, there were exceptions to this as well. Everyone comes here on vacation, and many move here afterward, but few actually make it. When I got here, I hit the ground running. I needed to network and make friends in order to fit in and survive. However, it took only a few experiences for me to realize that most gay guys only help other gay guys if they can benefit from it. It’s not who you know, but who you blow. There were quite a few guys that believed I wanted to fuck them or date them just because they bought me dinner or invited me to a party. I obliged some of them, and played their game. Then I started to realize that manipulating other men into spending money on you was a double edged sword. It was great that I was “being taken care of”, but it was also cheapening me as an individual. There was also a large amount of drama and rumors started about me after I went through this time period. There were guys who felt like they were cheated by me, that they were used. Other guys felt completely rejected, calling me “player” and “leech.” Most of them didn’t even know me outside of bars and drinking, so how well did they know the real me other than what they see and hear in a smokey, loud night club. And because it seemed like I was so promiscuous, many people started rumors that I had HIV and other STDs, they were actively telling other people who were interested in me, including Cubby, that I was bad news in one form or another.
My first year down here was rough, when I thought it was going to be the best time of my life. I dealt with gay cliques, unemployment, no transportation, the fear of possibly having HIV, and ultimately questioning why I was here. I moved here as a change from what I had been doing. It was a fresh start in a lot of ways. After a year down here however, I was really considering moving back to South Carolina. July 11th, 2012, I felt so lost. I had a commission based job for which I was going broke. My roommate at the time was ready to have me move out. As much as I tried to date other guys, I kept ending up with guys who either didn’t want to commit to a relationship, most of whom are still single even now and were long before I came to live here. OR guys who didn’t want to date me because they were worried I would be unfaithful or that my outgoing personality would clash with theirs. I even had a guy storm out of a bar because some male coworkers were giving me hugs.
I was also told repeatedly by my white and black friends that Latin men were trouble. They were emotional, territorial, and liars to the end. There was also a bit of racism in my family. My father is very passionate about ending illegal immigration and the affect that it has on our culture and economy. My experience with Latin men at this point wasn’t very far from what I was told. I had met some very psychotic Latin men, a few pathological liars, and definitely jealous territorial types. There was also a fear in the back of my mind that a Latin boyfriend would not be accepted by my family. Both of my exes before moving here identify as white.
So it was Labor Day weekend 2012. I was celebrating making a 12K commission that ultimately was the tipping point for me to stay in Fort Lauderdale. I remember going to Bill’s Filling Station by myself on a Friday night. I was living with a friend since I had moved out of my beach apartment. As soon as I walked in the door it was packed to the seams with bears and chasers. I couldn’t move more than a few feet without bumping into someone I knew or someone who wanted to get to know me. I even met Johnny Scruff that night. Eventually I made it up to the upper bar area and ran into some guys I needed to catch up with.
I was standing there talking to my friends and I was approached by David and Nick, they were friends of mine that did a scene together for BearFilms the same time that I did. We were also smoking and drinking buddies. They had brought with them a very familiar face, but one that I never met in person before. There stood this sexy, furry cubby. He had a handsome caring face covered in a beautiful beard. It was my Jorge, but he wasn’t mine yet.
Jorge and I had spoken back and forth on Facebook and Scruff, but we never actually hung out or met while I was living here my first year. I always thought he was handsome and sweet, but he never went out or was involved with the circle of “friends” that I ran with at the time. I also thought he was much chubbier than he was based on the pictures he used online. Once I saw him in the flesh, however, my feelings about him and other Latin men began to change very quickly.
While our introduction at Bill’s was short and sweet, it was not the end of our interactions. In the weeks to come I noticed he wrote a status update on Facebook that really hit me.
“I hate going to the gym by myself. Everyone is so rude, it’s always so busy. I just don’t feel like I know what I’m doing when I can’t even use the stuff I am used to. I really need a workout buddy.”
That was my IN. Right away I messaged him and told him if he wanted to go to the gym with me up here, he should. I offered to teach him all that I knew from all my time in the weight room. I also concurred that most people at the gym are rude because they only care about their workout. If he decided to workout with me, no one would fuck with us. All he had to do was drive up and give me a ride to the gym. He offered to smoke a blunt with me after our workout as gratitude. I agreed and we set a time to work out together.
We went to the gym and I have to say he’s one of the better workout partners I’ve had. Almost every guy I work out with is not as strong as I am, but Cubby didn’t get discouraged. He was just so happy to be working out and getting the help he needed. I could see the determination in his face with every exercise we did. This was a good sign that he had character and perseverance. Whether he was a friend or a lover, this was a trait that I still treasure today.
Cubby and I worked out together a few times, we would meet up, ride to the gym together, workout, and afterward we would get stoned together as a reward for our hard work at the gym. He understood that we were friends, and that I was keeping my options open. I really was working on being friends with guys before I fucked them. He took me out to dinner a few times with a disclaimer that we were just friends, and that I didn’t have to worry about doing anything in return. This type of thing had happened to me a few times as I mentioned above, so I was a little apprehensive at first. Although, he and I always had a great time together.
One afternoon in particular, we were out back having a smoke, and Cubby looked green in the gills. I brought him into my house and started to make him a glass of ice water. I turned around to check on him and he was shaking and collapsing in my kitchen. Neither of us know why it happened. We still don’t. I caught him while he was falling and carried him into my bedroom. I gave him water and nursed him back to normal. He was embarrassed, but happy that I helped him. I have had other friends with involuntary things happen to their bodies. I had a girlfriend of many years who would have panic attacks and convulse. Cubby was fine though.
We eventually started going out to the bars together. When Cubby gets drunk he makes out with everyone. This was something I had to adjust to. He was pretty expressive about his feelings toward me. I wasn’t sure yet though.
We made plans to go to Orlando for Halloween Horror Nights together. I arranged to stay with my friend Jesus and his boyfriend Alex. Jorge and I rode up together, partied up, and had a great time. We went to Parliament house while we were there. I ran into an old crush and made the mistake of going home with him instead of Cubby. At first I didn’t think anything of it, now that I look back in hindsight, it was a waste of my time to do that to him.
A week or so later, we went to a pool party together. I was expecting another guy to show up and make me feel like I mattered. As time went on, I realized finally that Cubby is there for me. Cubby wants to spend time with me. Cubby respects me for who I am. At that moment, I knew that he was right for me. When we got home from the pool party, he and I had sex for the first time. I say sex because I was drunk, and only got about half of myself inside of Cubby. We do make love, but this was just sex.
Things were very different at this point. Cubby was spending the night at my place. He was all about me and taking care of me. He still is, but this was unyielding kindness and diligence to make me happy. I guess when enough men treat you like a sex object, when you finally meet a guy who treasures you for the whole package its certain a pleasant change of pace.
We have been together now almost 2 years. At first we were in an open relationship with few rules. Now, I only have sex with others if it’s for work. The two of us having a threeway isn’t out of the question, it’s just difficult to find someone who is into both of us, whom we are both also into. I don’t really need all that though. Cubby is fantastic in the sack, he never disappoints. That’s why I love him so much. He does his best to always make me happy.