Nemesis

Does every gay man have a nemesis or is it just me?

And here’s what’s odd: I don’t even know this guy yet I call him my nemesis. I’m not sure the term “nemesis” is correct for this guy but it’s dramatic so I like it. For the purpose of this piece I define nemesis as someone who bothers me and works me up so very much. It’s just that simple.

What makes him my nemesis? I don’t know exactly. Here are some things I do know: I don’t know my nemesis, by name at least. We’ve never been introduced. However I see him at a local coffee chain on a somewhat regular basis. I go for coffee on Friday mornings. It’s like a “Congratulations, you made it through the week!/Job well done” kinda thing. And there he is – every week (and probably everyday for that matter) at 7:45/8:00 am with his laptop PRETENDING to work. I say pretending because we’re in a coffee shop folks, there are boys filtering in and out, he’s looking up from his laptop more than looking at it. I think I’ve heard him type but I wouldn’t put it past him if he had a typing sound track that plays “clickity-clackity” sounds whenever his fingers are near the keyboard. Sometimes he’s holding court at his little table chatting with guys while still looking over their heads and past them at whomever just walked in the door. And that’s not the worst of it. His clothes and general look/persona are what make me crazy. Sometimes I just can’t take it.

Ok, so he’s about late 40s, perhaps early 50s with salt and pepper hair. One thing is for sure – he has had work done. There is no question or need for contemplation on this; it’s been done. Eyes/eyebrows, Botoxed within an inch of his life, my guess is cheek implants to rival the puppet Madame of Madame and Wayland and (though this isn’t “work” per say) an unhealthy tan/skin color. He’s in good shape and does not apologize for it nor does he let anyone overlook it. He wears what I’m sure are shirts from the boys department when he is clearly a men’s small if not a medium. It’s usually a button down shirt with at least the top 3 buttons unbuttoned so as to show off his overgrown chest hair that practically needs a seat for itself at his table. The sleeves are rolled up to show the terrycloth wristband de jour pushed up on his forearm. The rest of the ensemble usually includes cargo shorts and running shoes…sometimes even the dreaded flip-flops. Whatever the outfit and scene he’s involved in on a Friday I always text a few people that I’ve talked to about this guy and let them know the state of affairs when getting my Friday morning coffee.

So he bothers me, that has been established. Therefore you’d think that if/when he’s not there I’d be happy. You’d think that. Well, the last couple of months my Friday mornings have been void of nemesis. For the first few I was like “oh, thank Gawd.” However, as the weeks turned into a months I find myself wondering where he is.

Why do I care?! Yet another “I don’t know” answer. Why do I have SUCH strong negative feelings about a person I’ve never met? I’m sure I have no idea why I have these feelings, only that I do have them. Would a therapist say that my feelings about him are actually more about me? ME?! I don’t even own a terrycloth wristband (do I? wait…no, I don’t…anymore.) Is it the fact that I’ll be his age and am wondering how I’m going to deal with it? Do I secretly want to be invited to sit with him and his chest hair? It’s baffling.

This coming weekend is a neighborhood street fair where a friend and I saw nemesis last year. If I don’t see him wandering that fest I may or may not feel the need to contact local authorities.