This story seems so unbelievable, I doubt anyone will believe it. But like all of my stories, I speak the truth no matter how harsh it is. Straight out of r/thathappened. But, my brother in law can vouch for it as he was there. We were at the Belvedere, a dive bar in Santa Rosa, California. We walked up to the bar to order some drinks. It was a bit busy, so we had to wait our turn, and this literal neckbeard started talking to me. I am on the short side of average, and this guy was a good 6” taller than me, with an actual neckbeard, and a leather fedora. I could make it up, but the truth is stranger than fiction.
This story seems so unbelievable, I doubt anyone will believe it. But like all of my stories, I speak the truth no matter how harsh it is. Straight out of r/thathappened. But, my brother in law can vouch for it as he was there. We were at the Belvedere, a dive bar in Santa Rosa, California. We walked up to the bar to order some drinks. It was a bit busy, so we had to wait our turn, and this literal neckbeard started talking to me. I am on the short side of average, and this guy was a good 6” taller than me, with an actual neckbeard, and a leather fedora. I could make it up, but the truth is stranger than fiction.
“Can I touch you hair?” The Neckbeard said, enamored with me immediately.
“Sure. I got good hair game.” See ladies! This is the appropriate way to deal with unwanted affection. I know where my boundaries are, I’m not gay if I let another dude stroke my hair. But, when he offered $1000 to suck my dick, that’s where I drew the line. Within the time of him caressing my hair, and our drinks being ready, this guy had escalated this courtship to a level that, honestly, made me feel so sorry for this guy.
I told this story to my friends, and the common response was, “What did you do with the $1000?”
“Love and money are like oil and water.” was my only response. My life would not change with an extra $1000 in my bank account. My life would be forever altered if I were to be hypocritical in my principles. I have never paid for sex, due in part to me being fortunate enough be attractive to the sex of my desire. This Neckbeard wasn’t so fortunate. But neither is the prostitute who chooses that profession. There have been times when I contemplated paying for sex. When I was in a relationship, the thought crossed my mind as a way of getting the demons out, without disrupting the social fabric of a relationship. The illegality of the profession has provided a safe haven for those that share the innate desires that cannot be fulfilled by a monogamous relationship. When I was lonely, I also contemplated paying for sex, but that principle has only brought me so far as to look, but never buy.
The Neckbeard’s offer didn’t even create a dilemma in my mind. I wouldn’t want to give him a hug, let alone do anything sexual with me. He had nothing to offer me, and this put into perspective some of the women I have pursued, who did not reciprocate, in my life that treated me the same. No amount of money will buy someone’s love. It might gain some attention, but it will forever remain a hollow transaction. If he provided me a life-changing number, I might be telling you the story about the first time I let a guy suck my dick. He wasn’t the first guy to ask.
As a taxi driver I had gay clients, on one standard night in downtown Encinitas, two guys were doing some heavy petting on one ride, and all I kept hearing was, “Shhhh. Wait ’til we get home,” in the drunkard’s typical loud whisper. The first gentleman to get in was wearing your standard business casual, silicon valley suit – boat shoes, micro-plaid rolled up shirt, and khaki pants. His secret boyfriend jumped in shortly after in a flamboyantly gay color that was, violet? They started making out as soon as the doors closed, but as I wrapped around the block, the make-out session paused to hide from his co-workers long enough to scream, “Later Bro!” out the window, before returning to his flamboyant friend. As I dropped them off, the flamboyant one made jokes about inviting me in. I quickly drove off, and focused on my job instead of the sexual harassment of which I was a victim.
There were multiple gay passengers when I drove for lyft/uber in San Francisco, as to be expected. Some would try to rub the back of my neck, some would ask if I wanted to party, and some would use a more subtle approach to vet out whether or not I was gay. These tactics are borderline harassment, but once again, I know what I am attracted to, and guys aren’t it. For anyone who can’t understand the idea that heterosexuality and homophobia are not at odds with one another, just take a look at a cow. Do you want to fuck it? Why? Because you are not sexually attracted to cows. I hope I see guys as non-sexual. I watch porn and my focus is on the woman, and her interaction, and reaction to the penis. I have never even been curious, because I have had enough interactions with men to know that I never want to share time with one naked. It was bad enough having to shower concurrently with them in jail. I could do without those memories for the rest of my life.
The Neckbeard was real, but his lore more widely, represents the incel community. To be involuntary celibate is a growing problem, specifically with men in my age demographic. In the Neckbeard’s demographic. I have been lucky enough to have enough reach to grab that low hanging fruit when things got desperate, but the Neckbeard doesn’t have that luxury. He did have that $1000, though. I assume he found someone willing to do the dirty work for cheaper than what I would need out of the transaction. I hope so, because it deeply saddens me that I have things people feel they need, and I refuse to provide it. Just as there are many women out there that have what I feel I need, and they refuse to provide it. Someone out there wants what you have, so don’t stop looking. Just know that there are things that you unequivocally refuse, and when a person gives you the body language, or a signal that you have not been chosen, be polite and move on. One day you may need to reject someone, and if we can all use the same universal signs of rejection, people can stop bitching about being harrassed.
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