TIMID YOUTH AND THE GREED OF THE PEDOPHILE Pt. One

In the 70's and early 80's the term chicken was a derogatory term that was a label for a minor and a term that was completely foreign with this piece of meat. I was a child with such a dark secret that it would seem inconceivable to one unless they had it experienced it themselves. I was a child on the weekdays who went to grade school came home watched his Ultraman and Speed Racer while playing with his Star Wars toys. I was a child feigning teen on weekend for the men of Philadelphia from the tea rooms of Strawbridge & Clothier to the putrid smelling bathroom stalls of Suburban Station with the homeless washing socks in the gray dingy porcelain chipped sinks . I would venture around as if searching for my Fagin. I would be taken to empty darkened hallways beneath Philadelphia's City Hall to the fire stairwells of an empty parking garage. I would taste the stale smokers breath or the lunch special at some local deli. I would be pushed against the cold and hard walls as the man and on some very rare occasions men would fumble with their Brooks Brothers suits or Parking Authority uniform and force me on my knees and pleasure themselves at the expense of a little bit of my soul. Sometimes I would be pleasured by these strangers but mostly given a few bucks for some lunch and told to run on my way.

I did meet my Fagin by the name of George X who had a corner store on the corner of Pine and Camac street the  Georgetown Deli. George met me one Saturday afternoon when I had sat at a corner of 11th and Pine in a small corner park talking to this teenager of about 17 and we had talked about music and such. I had seen him a few times in some of the tea rooms and we had made eye contact and that's all . He had excused himself and about 5 minutes later this man in about his late 30's with strawberry blond hair and a very pale complexion sat himself down and just stared me down for what seemed a very long time. He introduced himself and he told me my former bench partner had told him about me and asked if I wanted to come back to his place. It was a brisk fall afternoon so I went back to his deli and the teen was in the deli with about two other teens who seemed to eye up the new kid in town. George asked if I liked Chinese because in the far corner of his deli was a small kitchen which a young Chinese man made lunch specials. I went back to the corner and the young man seemed to eye me up as a possible conquest. I got my egg roll and fried rice and went back to the counters. The other teens still eyed me with the look of a tired mutt in a kennel watching the younger pup come into their territory and their time began to tick away. George and the other guys went to these small and wobbly stairs which led up to the apartments above. These apartments ( 3 if I am right) housed George's boys and a young couple a corn silk surfer dude and his doe eyed hippie chick who seemed to be the prince and princess of the stable. This was to be my home away from home for about 15 months before our  family's move to Appleton,Wisconsin.

This small deli was the home of about 6 teens all under the age of 20 and over 16. I was the youngest I had told them I was 16 but was 12 1/2 - 13. The deli was a very small Ma & Pop operation which seemed more busy with the Chinese lunch specials if anything. I had gone back one day and the cook pulled me into the very small kitchen and asked if he could kiss me and with that I was mauled by this very sexy Asian male with gorgeous shoulder length hair and a mouth who knew how to kiss. It was this man who taught me how to kiss and became my first crush. The deli was usually busy but it seemed most men that came in went upstairs with one of the teens and about half and hour or so would leave sometimes with the teen sometimes not. I was oblivious to the fact that this deli was nothing but a whorehouse disguised with the deli counter pushing Dietz& Watson meats and the Chinese lunch counter in back. I remember one weekend hanging there a young man about in his mid 20's came in and George introduced me to him he asked if I wanted to go grab a sandwich at the local gay restaurant / hangout. I remember being head over heels with this man and his Parker Stevenson looks. We ate our meal and he went on a fishing expedition on my personal life. I really played it cool and it seemed to work because the next moment we where at his apartment catercorner from the deli. His apartment was very cool compared to the dreary apartments across the streets. He excused himself as he ran outside and I noticed him give something to George and I waved out the window without warning this mans afghan dog was humping my back and I was mortified as I was now gaining the unwanted affection of a canine. The dog settled down when its owner came in and we sat on his futon and began to kiss.

I was a young boy who wanted some type of love shown to him and I thought this was true love. I started kissing my Parker crush and I found myself after a few minutes professing my love to this total stranger. I only saw in film and television when making love you professed your love to the individual. I know that man must of thought what the hell had he gotten himself into. I knew of hickeys from HAPPY DAYS so his neck looked like a Jackson Pollack print. We tumbled around like two teens and he seemed gentle at the innocence he held between his arms.I seemed I found my so called prince and I left with a nice buzz from the joint and ran up 12th street to the ell. I was going back to the life that was truly that of a young preteen and back to the halls of St. Bernadette's  and back to the home life I so wanted to escape. I do not remember why my desire to leave my family was so strong at this time but it was a growing feeling I felt daily in my life back then.

I then found myself heading down to the inner part of Upper Darby when my Mother worked for the township and I was hitting local Department stores and their mens rooms. I wanted physical contact from someone other than my family. I felt as if I was a child with no reason to exist except for the pleasure of the strangers I would meet in  the darkness and cold restrooms of Philadelphia and vicinity. I was starting to rebel against family and my Mother and Sister took the brunt of the abuse. I was angry and I noticed when I was living my domestic life I was noticing things like bed wetting and rages that went like a flash fire. It was the little things like that which have caused me to look back and put the two of them together with the molestation and the constant cruising for that missing component in my life.

I was a fixture now at the Georgetown deli on weekends and found myself quite the popular teen among George's friends. I would be taken to lunches and then the quick fuck in the brownstones of Philly's gay crowd. I was also the biggest threat to one of George's boys an Italian teen from South Philly who would always try to go on one of these dates at the Hasty Tasty deli or the ice cream parlor More Than Just ice Cream on Pine ( a fixture still to this day in the gay community ). I would be with George some times and this kid would always come up and push  his way into the situation. I was the surfers favorite fuck buddy and we would fool around sometimes with a joint and a quick blow job and he would shove me out before his girl would come back from somewhere and they would lock themselves in the room which would be filling the floors with the sweet smell of incense. I was the boy from the burbs who was the epitome of Apple pie and baseball while these other boys where the products of broken homes and life on the streets. I was just as much like them than they actually knew I was just in better packaging.

I remember once on a summer afternoon when a creme colored convertible pulled up and the boys from George's went ballistic as they practically tore at each other to get out there. My surfer buddy even was making his way out into the street to see this individual in the convertible. George took me by the shoulder and led me out into the scene and I could see eyes seethe as the new toy was displayed for this stranger. I noticed even the surfer had given me the glassy stare I expected from the others but not him. This stranger pulled himself away from the teens and put out his hand and introduced himself as X. X was a local television personality who ran a local teen dance show on one of the local UHF stations. He was in a red and white large collared leisure polyester shirt opened to the mid chest with a tuft of jet black hair and several gold medallions and a gold razor blade. He had  on the tightest white leisure pants which could not hide the fact that he was definitely not Jewish. His looks where that out of early Scorsese film. He had a large tuft of charcoal hair and that definitive Sicilian look. The hair a definite hairpiece and I noticed his definite smell of some wicked cologne. He told me he was informed of me and he took great pride in telling me about his show and he could tell I was not really impressed about show. He told me they would be filming live that following Monday with Leif Garret as guest and he would have me backstage during the concert. I was not really impressed by this overly confident greaseball and George took me aside and told me he could really show me a very good time and how much it would benefit me.  I watched as these young men threw themselves over him like puppies on a Mother's tit. I excused myself and went into the deli and hit up my sexy Chinese man ( name forgotten) and a nice make out session.

I was not one to be impressed by all that showy glitter and the job and the pretentious name dropping. I did have a mad crush on Leif Garret but the man was a greasy slimeballRittenhouse Square. It was this walk where I started to find out that what was really going down at George's.

My night in shining armor took my hand as we sat on a bench under a huge oak in full bloom with its greener than green leaves. He asked about my true age and I told him I was only 15 (13) and he told me how good of a kid I seemed to be and wanted to know how I could be away from home for such long times during the weekends. I was usually home by dinner and rarely ever later than that. I know I told him about how my Father had called me a faggot and his drinking and he listened and then he told me how I should watch out for the boys at George's and even George. I felt like someone finally cared for me and could see he truly had me in his best interest and he tasseled my hair and suggested for me to go home. I remember asking him if I could drop by sometime and he winked and told me in about 3 years but he would always let me stop by as a friend to watch some television or listen to some music. I would stay away from the city for the rest of the summer until early fall. This then would be my last few months with the boys of Georgetown and their Fagin George.