MEMOIRS OF EUGAYSHA: A MEMOIRS OF A GAYSHA SPIN-OFF

I have been planning on doing this blog entry for more than a year and after reading my friend Richard Dicky Julies' latest Memoirs of a Gaysha facebook note (those in the know will know what I’m talking about) and after consulting with Richard finally inspired enough to give it a shot. This essay is in no way competing with Richard’s “Memoirs”, if CSI could spawn CSI: Miami and CSI: New York then I think Memoirs of Eugaysha should have a chance at life; maybe even be judged on its own merits. For those of y’all who don’t know this Richard fellow I speak of please continue reading and your feedback so welcome!

AUNTY AIDA
A few months ago a couple of friends and I were merrily gayling about nothing in particular when the rather current topic of Aids came up. Somewhere along the line I asked them a question which has been bugging me for months; I asked them who they thought would catch the dreaded disease first, which in retrospect is a sucky and immature question to ask (but do bear with me, I’m going somewhere with this). The question left them stunned and wondering why I would ask such a morose (and mean) question. They verbally shat all over me and the topic was changed to music or some other hot topic but my question struck a nerve and still does to this day (mission accomplished). Merely a few weeks later we found out about an acquaintance of ours who had been infected with HIV which developed into full blown Aids. The scandalous part of it all is his mission to spread the virus to as many irresponsible men (straight or otherwise) as he possibly can. I personally feel he is vile and evil for doing so and he should receive a bullet to the temple for every guy he's successfully infected, but I’m not exactly known for being merciful so let’s move this along to the point I’m trying to make… The year is 2011 and we as men (homosexual or otherwise) need to start a dialogue amongst ourselves and the people we love. This dialogue should encourage safe sex and regular HIV testing. This dialogue should encourage understanding of the virus and should do much to eradicate the fear we would naturally have towards anyone with the virus, whether it is a person with HIV or Aids. Going for an Aids test (and talking about the experience) should not be an event filled with shame; I feel it should be as common as a dental check up. Lately I've been finding out about more and more people I know personally being infected and although we now know it's not the death sentence it used to be it's still not something I would wish upon my worst enemy. Perhaps if this Aids-infected acquaintance of ours felt a little less alone, a little less disgraced, maybe if he had the correct support structure; perhaps he wouldn’t have intentionally gone out to infect so many others…

NARNIA
Once upon a time I posted a tweet: "He's so deep in the closet he's having adventures in Narnia." This tweet made me smile but not for long because I soon realised I was talking about myself...
I'm a pretty feminine guy as you can imagine, I wear my hair shoulder length in a variety of hairstyles, I mince instead of walk, I enjoy wearing high heeled shoes etc. In short I’m an obviously gay man. What most people don't know about is my other life as closeted homosexual. As anyone who knows me can testify to; I am a queen of note. When I’m home things are very different, I’m Beyonce instead of Sasha Fierce if you catch my drift.
I have a mother who has a rather admirable relationship with God. She prays to him and serves him with an awesome passion, she does not swear or drink or smoke and she is really blessed because of it. In her eyes being gay is an abomination like no other (she’s old school like that) but God kept the blessings coming by making me a “queer” (her word to describe gays). God's sense of humour strikes again!
I'm 28 and I lead a relatively drama-free life because of this closet I find myself living in. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to be fully out and proud but I'm honestly in no hurry to start the process. Many people have asked me how I can still be closeted when my homosexuality is so evident and as annoying as their inquisitivity (I don’t care if that isn’t really a word, it’s fun to say) can be I patiently explain how it all works: before I enter my house a switch in my head is activated and Eugene mode is engaged. I walk differently, my voice deepens and I somehow become straight acting. I know this is hard to imagine but it gets better. One day while in “Eugene” mode a gay friend and his boyfriend came to visit me at home and they couldn’t handle being in my at home persona’s company. On the one hand they respected my situation enough to not be as outrageously fem and loud as they would normally be, on the other hand they couldn’t believe how huge the difference between Eugene and Gina is and how second nature it all is. To me being straight acting at home is exactly that; second nature. I’ve been these two people for so long that half the time I don’t even know when I’m in which ever mode which can lead to some awkward moments, especially at work, but that’s a whole other blog entry altogether.
At the beginning of last year my two best friends and I made a pact to come out the closet but only one of us made it out. This pact inspired me to be a little less Eugene and a little more Gina and the results are the cause of much entertainment, for me at least. When receiving phone calls from friends I now speak in my natural voice and yes I will gayle for all the occupants of my house to hear. I now insist on my mother meeting all of my friends and I tell her all about them, okay maybe not EVERYTHING… Witnessing her involuntary denial amuses and fascinates me to no end, and gives me great material for the stage as well.
To be totally honest I don’t quite know why I’m still in the closet, I know my mom will take the news very hard but she’ll pray about it and God will tell her to stop being silly and just accept it. The rest of her family and friends will be stunned at for her not noticing sooner. Her love for me won’t stop and I doubt she’ll throw me out of the house, I guess I’ve become so content with my double life. Sometimes, when life as a homosexual-cab-driving-hair-styling-aspiring-stand-up-comedian becomes too much, it’s nice to just be Eugene, more relaxing even.
I’m in no way encouraging staying in the closet nor am I defending my being closeted, but as I see it, everyone’s situation is different and should be dealt with accordingly. Live and let live! Who knows, my next blog entry could even be my coming out story with a hint of not so much…

Gina's Tips For Gays

1. Drukking a game of soccer does not a first date make.

2. Your eyebrows are a gift, overplucking is not cool. There's no need to look startled all of the time!

3. Just because they started speaking to you again doesn't mean it's over; revenge will be taken eventually.

4. Poverty does not suit any homosexual.

5. Knowing a little about everything beats knowing everything about one thing.

6. It's advantageous to know when to act straight.

7. Gayle is a life skill.

8. Support your support structure...

9. You're armed with condoms at all times.

10. Your car has a fabulous name.

11. Being able to eat with chopsticks is a life skill.

12. You MUST know how to make an entrance.

13. You MUST know when to make an exit.

14. You need a catchphrase. 'And Thank You' does not count...

15. There's a difference between a drag name and a stage name, make sure you have one of each.

16. Don't allow anyone to tell you what do in bed unless you've told them what to tell you...

17. Know when to play dumb...

18. Know when to shut up...

19. You should have at least one song you can perform well at a karaoke...

20. Knowing how to drive is as an important as a matric certificate.

21. (The most important one): "If you can't love yourself, how in the hell are you gonna love someone else..." - RuPaul

22. Live a well balanced life; go to straight clubs as well.

23. Take yourself out for dinner every once in a while; you never know who you may meet.

24. There's a difference between big words and rich words.

The Perambulator: Lexus In Training

It’s Saturday the 26th of November 2005, at approximately ten to eleven the morning I first spotted the car that would change my life forever. She was white, long, black metal rims (hubcap free), had a big scrape on the rear right door but I just I had to have it. The guy selling it needed a smaller car for his wife and was very sad to let it go, a pretty believable story but so very far from the truth. I took the car for a spin and 5 minutes into the test drive I bought it for the princely sum of R18 000.

December 7th 2005: The day I pick up my most expensive purchase to date and the beginning of my biggest love affair ever. A ’94 Ford Telstar with an idling problem and stability issues. Two days later I took my car in for a 204 000km service but that operation turned out to be a much bigger affair. Eleven hours later my car was ready to be collected and after emptying my wallet I drove her home mad as hell. Not the ideal start to the ownership experience; that was also the very night I named it The Perambulator.

A couple of days later I hopped into my now purring car and took her to meet my friend Gary. Gary is a Honda fan and me purchasing a Mazda in Ford drag didn’t sit very well with him. “Your car looks like it belongs in the FBI,” said Gary and that’s when I figured out my hectic attraction to this large family car I found myself owning. The Ford Crown Victoria is my favourite Ford. It’s a full sized sedan usually used by the American Police and Taxi industry and is probably the most crashed car in cinematic history. Next year will be its last year of production and I will enter a blog post on it in the not too distant future. My car has a slight resemblance to the American legend that is the Crown Vic and just like that my love for my new car was restored.

The Perambulator has a good couple of stories to tell in the three years I operated her. She has seen most of the club parking lots in Cape Town, she’s been driven to George while being in dire need of a service, many people learnt to drive using her, she was shot in a gang war (no they weren’t aiming at her), she has driven though knee high floods and she was even brutally smashed by a Golden Arrow bus. I’ve had some of my most memorable conversations in her, I’ve laughed my loudest and shed bucket loads of tears, I’ve kissed one or two guys and yes she’s even been stuck at the roadside without petrol. Two years ago the engine died on me at 316 000kms and I couldn’t even be mad at it because she was faithful for over 112 000kms. 112 000 kilometers in three years? You betcha!!

The time has come to sell the corpse of The Perambulator and it saddens me to my core. I know her memory will live on in the hearts and minds of most of the people she’s carried over the years. I’m a better man for owning that Ford badged Mazda and I’d buy another one if I could find one at a good price with a low amount of mileage on the odometer.

Ten Things I've Learnt In My 27 Years

I know I've already published this as a note on facebook but I feel it's worth republishing...

1. Choose your friends very carefully and love them with all your might; they might just reciprocate.
It's risky I know, but your true friends will love you back and that dear readers makes it all worth it. Quality over quantity...

2. It's might be hard to forgive and forget; it costs more to hold a grudge.
Who needs to live with that negativity anyway?

3. Mr Right beats Mr Right Now.
The man worth crying for will never let you shed a tear; tears of joy excluded of course.
A man is a hard to find but a real man will find you.

4. There's no shame in learning from others' mistakes.
Why put yourself through unnecessary grief?

5. Compromise is not a sign of weakness.
Do you wanna be right or do you want to be happy?

6. There's a difference between religion and spirituality.
Your relationship with your God need not be dictated by anyone but yourself. By now you should know the difference between right and wrong anyway...

7. Somethings are better left unsaid.
Enough said.

8. Appreciate every moment of solitude.
The most important relationship you will ever have is the one with yourself.

9. There is so much more to life than material wealth.
You are not gonna be buried in that car; when you reach the Pearly Gates St Peter is not gonna emulate an Ackermans advert and say nice loafers and Satan certainly is not gonna wanna listen to your mp3 player.

10. Life goes on...

Confessions Of A Gay Cab Driver

So here I am at work with two hours to kill before going home to my three dogs (Brüno, Dexter and Snoopy) and two or more episodes of RuPaul's Drag Race (season two). With this two hours I'm gonna briefly let you (the reader) into the world of a cab driver in Cape Town.

I am Eugene Mathews. I'm currently 27 years of age, I'm an out and proud gay man and due to circumstances (that I can barely recall) I am currently a cab driver for Rikkis Urban Safaris. I also work in the call centre, assist in the marketing department, occasionally help out with the allocating of vehicles to drivers and cash ups (supervising) and lately I've been helping out in the workshop (last Friday I help our head mechanic swop the driver's doors of two cars and the week before that I was involved in the dirty job of replacing a front shock absorber). Such butch work but I'm loving every moment of it, even the greasy bits.

In the beginning I received a little resistance from a couple of my (straight) colleagues because of my obvious homosexuality but that prompted me to be even more flamboyant than I usually am and a year later I find myself missed when I'm not seen at work. Yes I've had a couple of altercations with one or two narrow-minded colleagues and superiors but patience and an above average wit helped me gain a whole lot of respect and love. A love of beer certainly helped my cause but that's beside the point at this time.

As time progressed I adopted a Sasha Fierce-type sub-personality who I've sinced dubbed Materia Girl (we use Daihatsu Materias as our vehicle of choice, rocket science calculations are not required). The Materia Girl is a character who is loved and feared in equal quantities, she works at a rate that scares even me at times. She has performed death defying feats such as driving from the BP in Somerset Road, Green Point, to the airport in 9 minutes which wouldn't be as impressive if she weren't driving an automatic Daihatsu. She's driven to Stellenbosch from the Foreshore in 21 minutes. Kalk Bay? 19 minutes thank you very much. She's patient and fun with clients but never does she allow herself to be walked over. She never receives speeding finds though and has only been in one car crash but that's only because a drunk woman in a Polo braked too late. Being the Materia Girl is hard work though...

It all starts when walking towards our depot. The walk changes to something similar to what Beyoncé does when performing Get Me Bodied. My hair somehow becomes more flowy, my posture changes and all problems and issues outside of work matters no longer. The real fun begins once I receive my car though...

My job is one that's unpredictable at best. I could drive an American couple over Chapman's Peak with close to zero visibility due to fog or pick up a shady character in Gugulethu who'll turn out to be a most useful future contact. One client from Hout Bay has even become one of my favourite facebook friends.

It isn't all moonshine and roses though; being a cab driver, especially at night can be a pretty dangerous profession. Drunk drivers drive kamikaze style, cab drivers from rival companies are always ready to fight (sometimes physically) for a customer and the opportunity to be hijacked is omnipresent. At the end of the day I do know that I am saving the lives of the drunk and entertaining the not as drunk whether it be with my at times strange sense of humour or my at times strange taste in music.

Once upon a time I was embarrassed to be doing what I do but as I've grown in my job and as a person, so has the shame faded. Best you know when I ain't working I refuse to drive, but that's a story for a future blog.

Work is scarce in this beautiful city of ours so while I'm doing what I'm doing I might as well do it to the best of my ability. Cab driving is not what I plan on doing for the rest of my days, my levels of potential does not allow it but what a fun way to make a living in the meantime!

Materia Girl aka LTI Lady aka Quantum Queen.