Every romance (or Bro-mance 😁) story has a beginning, a middle, and hopefully a happy ending. April 30th will mark the 25th anniversary for the hubster (Eric) and I. It honestly doesn’t seem like that much time has gone by. Yet when we look into the mirror, the truth is right in front of our eyes.
Younger and recently established Gay couples often ask us, how we met and what are the secrets to our coupled longevity? One part of the question is always shorter than the other. We say that every relationship is different, and that communication is key to everything. We also view our relationship as a partnership too. In other words, we’re in this life together. This is something we remind each other when moments become tense.
Where it all began…
Once upon a time, there was a time before social apps and personal computers. During the mid 1980s, I was living in San Diego and working for the popular clothing apparel store, The Gap. Mission Valley was my home location, but I occasionally helped out other stores at University Town Center and Fashion Valley.
In 1985, a new shopping mall (Horton Plaza) would soon open downtown and The Gap was opening a store there too. Horton Plaza looked like an amusement park with its bright colors and unique architecture, minus the thrill-seeking rides. It had all the major retail stores of the day, Mervyn’s, Miller’s Outpost, Z Gallerie, Nordstrom, and Robinson’s plus many more stores, spread over five levels in one place.
When Eric came into the picture, he was happily partnered to a well-known high-end hairdresser, Ted. One of Ted’s clients included the first female mayor of San Diego, Maureen “Mo” O’Connor. With Eric’s partner working on Saturdays, this often left him with his afternoons free. He would spend his time cycling throughout San Diego’s famous Balboa Park, Golden Hills, and downtown areas. During one of his outings downtown, Eric decided to stop and check out the new shopping mall Horton Plaza. As he wandered through the mall, he made his way up to the third level and walked into The Gap. As he entered the store, I greeted him in the typical Gap manner, asking him if there was something in particular he was looking for. Jeans, he said in a 38 inch inseam. This is how we met. There was never a thought of anything lewd or lascivious about when I met him. He was simply a very tall and attractive customer checking out the new mall.
Also at this time, I was dancing in a small clogging group called the Bugle Boys and we would have performances throughout the city. By chance, I would always end up running into Eric and his partner. Since Eric was a familiar face in the store, there was a spark of recognition when he saw me. Apparently there was too much of a spark, because Eric’s partner thought that the two of us were having a fling. Honestly, that could not have been farther from the truth. My only interest at that time was working, dancing, and nothing more as it related to Eric.
After some time I lost track of Eric. I left The Gap and I landed a job dancing in a show at SeaWorld San Diego in a show called “City Streets”. This show featured no aquatic animals and was a variety show with contracted acts such as a trampoline performer, BMX Bike riders, Rollerscaters, skateboarders (Primo & Diane), an acrobatic family, and even a Pee Wee Herman impersonator (dear friend Jeff Scott). The cast members were all characters that you would see in an urban neighborhood for example, a police officer, window cleaner, a nun, and a basketball player (me). This was an amazing opportunity and my first full time job as a dancer. I stayed with the show for several years before moving to Los Angeles to try my hand at landing a part in one of the many shows and movies that were made there.
Eric had left San Diego and moved up to Portland, Oregon, for cleaner air. He developed bronchitis from the air pollution. His partner also died of AIDS and so there wasn’t anything keeping him there. He picked Portland because of an article he had read in Sunset magazine. In Portland, Eric landed his dream job of designing homes for a small architectural office in Lake Oswego. Later, he would change firms to Mascord Design Associates where he remains today as the Director of Design and partner owner in the business.
It was June 1991, and I was returning home from the summer’s Gay Pride festivities. Since I lived in West Hollywood, I was close to everything. After hanging out with friends at the Pride events, I headed home. I usually walked along Santa Monica Boulevard before turning up Westmount to Holloway. I was about halfway home when I noticed two tall guys heading in my direction. As they got closer, I recognized one of the faces; it was Eric and another guy. He did a double-take and asked me what I was doing in LA. I told him that I moved up a few years ago to pursue bigger opportunities. It was a bit of an awkward reunion since Eric was in LA on a date, to break up with this guy. After brief introductions, I said my goodbyes and went home. It would be almost a decade before he and I would see each other again. During that time, I would end up in Holland after meeting a gentleman from Amsterdam during my first time abroad. Following the devastating Northridge quake in 1994, I was convinced to move to Amsterdam. I had always felt a calling to Europe and now I would become an expat. I sold all of my physical property including my car, futon, television, and stereo system and boarded a plane for Holland.
Time flies…
Let’s just say after almost seven years, my time living in Amsterdam provided me with lots of personal growth experiences. I learned so much about myself and what not to accept in a relationship. The one important thing I learned was to not forget yourself in a relationship. Being that there are two of you, each person has their own history and desires. I put all of my energy into what my Euro-partner wanted to do and didn’t want to do and didn’t say anything (or very little) that would cause any trife. It wasn’t until I sat on the banks of a canal contemplating jumping in that I had to make a change. Talking with a professional and with each other didn’t help so we decided that it was time to end things. It was amicable at first. We had recently purchased a new home with separate rooms, so I relocated myself to a different floor and busied myself with work stuff. This was fine as a short term solution but my now ex also had a temper. That combined with alcohol, was an explosive combination. So I decided to fly to Seattle to surprise my mother.
It was Thanksgiving 1999, and I needed to distance myself from the hostility and surround myself in love and familiarity, at least for a few days. My sisters knew what I was up to. My oldest sister picked me up from the airport and we headed over. She walked in first and a few minutes later, I knocked at the door. It had been years since I had spent time with my mother and sisters. This visit was just what I needed to help me feel whole again. I spent a few days with my mother and then a Saturday night with friends Bruce and Charly, who had moved to Seattle from San Diego. We made plans to go out to a bar, The Cuff, later that evening. I was happy and really wanted to go dancing and hang out with more men. So after taking a disco nap, we had dinner and prepared to go out. I was asked to meet at coat check at midnight since they had to be up early the next morning.
At the club, the music was loud and the lighting dim. I had a couple of drinks (rum and coke) to get into the groove. After a couple of hours the club was packed. I was feeling good and noticed that it was now midnight. As I retrieved my jacket, I turned around and recognized this tall, handsome, and familiar face. I said, “Hey, I know you.” This handsome man stopped and looked a bit puzzled as he stared back at me. I asked his name, and he said Eric. I then asked where he was from. He replied, Portland. I had never been to Portland, so I pressed further with my inquiry and asked where he lived before Portland. He said, San Diego. That’s when I said, it’s me Judge from The Gap at Horton Plaza, remember me? And for the very first time, we touched; we hugged.
Our timing couldn’t have been worse. Eric was just arriving, as l was leaving. In fact, he was in Seattle because a friend of his had set him up on a blind date that weekend.
So, what to do…
Bruce and Charly recognized the unique circumstance Eric and I were in, and suggested that he stay over. There was plenty of room at their place and Eric was happy to oblige. We stayed up most of the night catching up and reminiscing about San Diego and the chance meeting on the street in Los Angeles. As the darkness of night gave way to the light of a new day, the reality of the moment sank in. I had to head back to Holland later that night. My sister was planning on picking me up from the South Center Mall outside of Seattle so I could spend the final few hours with family. Eric had to head back to Portland and volunteered to drop me off.
It was raining and the weather reflected the somber mood of my departure. When we arrived at the mall, I could see my sister at the entrance waiting for me. This was the saddest goodbye I’ve ever made. This time, we exchanged email addresses and phone numbers to stay in touch with one another.
Over the course of the next four months, we would call and email each other. At that time, Eric was soon to celebrate a milestone birthday and he asked if I would fly to Portland for it. When he told me the date, I mentioned that I already had plans to go skiing in the French Alps. He sounded defeated when I told him I couldn’t make it. Hearing how disappointed he was I changed my mind and said yes. After that visit in March, 30 days later I would be moving to Portland. That wasn’t my original idea. I was planning on moving to Seattle until I was readjusted to be back in the states. Eric suggested that I move to Portland instead and added, why move twice. That was a good point, and the rest is history.
This is really the most succinct version of the story. There was sex, drama, and a whole lot of the tears, but I’ll save those stories for another day! 😉
Judge Don't Judge...Much 