To My Hopefully Still Good Friend, Larkin:

Hope you enjoy my Halloween gift of a large Hershey bar w/almonds, and two Mad Magazines!

I really am not sure at all, why you suddenly ended what seemed to be the start of an excellent friendship...though I do have some ideas. I might be wrong, but here goes:

(Before I proceed, please note I am strongly attracted to you in a romantic friendship way...I have no interest in getting into your pants, as darlingly handsome as you are. I think you need to understand this; I suspect you already do.)

Some very wicked and jealous people surrounding you have driven us apart, most likely with ugly gossip...to convince you that I've partaken in some nasty games against you. None of this is true, including the series of crises that burdened you last year (loss of home, job, and SOMA hangout...all within the same, very short few weeks). You stopped talking to me immediately after I was drugged/mugged...which really did happen. The last time we hugged, was April 9, 2006...and it has been a painful odyssey ever since, that you avoid me like the plague, and treat me like the most horrible person on earth!

Did you know that someone at The Hole, told me you were homeless? And can you imagine the sorrow this caused me? I asked some people there, how you are doing...people who at least seemed to be your friends. But I got mostly hostile replies and/or intentional misinformation...probably because they are twisted, jealous queens who love to screw with decent peoples' minds. So you can imagine my surprise (and delight) when you resurfaced in my life, directly across my apartment building! In fact, I could see you clearly, right from a hallway window, especially when you were on the balcony. I was tempted to gesture towards you, with a "Wiiiilbuuuur" holler, but I was so distraught about what happened between us, I never did.

And now, you're permanently in my neck of the woods at Market and Church Streets...where I hang out daily, including at the Church Street Coffeehouse (formerly Muddy Waters). Funny how both our hangouts here in The Castro changed ownership around the same time! Just another weird and intriguing event in the chemistry of our association!

Our paths now cross often...and sometimes I pause a while to admire you from a distance. I take your sudden reappearance in my life in my own neighborhood (and for those first few months, right across the street from my apartment) as a positive sign that I'm on the right track, and to keep the faith...that our friendship will resume. I guess you only need to find the moment when the door to our friendship opens up in such a way as to keep you safe from harm. Meanwhile, if I scowl or spit at you (only when you do this to me first), please don't take it personally...as pretending to hate you back is most likely the safest way to behave, for your own protection...and probably, mine too.

Everyone now thinks I despise you, including Eagle bartender Ron...but I really do not. This is simply to get them off my tail, and yours...to make your life more secure, that you may resolve matters at your end, more readily. Reminds me of a romantic gay film I once saw, where two prisoners fell deeply in love. But to keep from being seperated and even murdered, they had to pretend they hate each other in front of the other captives, and prison guards. They'd even beat each other up now and then, to appear totally convincing!

If you think I have plans of vengeance against you, you're wrong. I am only trying to stand by you as a best friend, in hopes the worst will finally blow over, and our friendship resume. Seems to me, that some people control your life, and if they don't like anyone you like, they'll mess with you big time, unless you chase such people away...people who offer you no stress or grief, only friendship. Here's one interesting observation:

Even after you excluded me, you would not let anyone mess with me...and the person who mugged me, Michael, stayed away as long as you hanged out at The Hole. He has since returned a week or two after Gary 86'd you...I remained in order to figure out just what the heck is going on. (I have a hunch that certain evil ones had hoped I'd leave, once you stopped talking to me. When I didn't, I guess they figured I'd depart for good, once you were 86'd. Still, I remained. Finally, a death threat against me succeeded, and I left for good. I presume Gary C. paid speed-freak Chris to scare me away; as we were always on good terms till then.) I missed your presence very much; I cherished being under the same roof with you, even when you ignored me completely. That is how I concluded that our friendship ended not because you dislike me, but because others who wield power over you hate me. One such person among several is Gypsy (a.k.a. "Arthur," "Pappy," and goddess knows how many other names).

I never thought I'd see Gypsy again, after he and his two sidekicks drove me out of The Badlands, back in 1989. Then, I had just become boyfriends with the new bartender, Bill. But when Gypsy showed up, it was all over for me: Bill kicked me out, and stopped dating me or associating with me in any other way. I tried to talk to Bill over the phone, on the street, wherever our paths crossed...but he never spoke to me again. Meanwhile, thanks to Gypsy's "deals", within a few short weeks all the Badlands bartenders had runny noses...and it wasn't the flu, I can tell you that. About a year later, Bill's picture was in the B.A.R. obituary, dead from a drug overdose.

Now I'm not blaming Gypsy for everything, as it was Bill's choice to "partake"...and he was bitter over his AIDS diagnosis. However, Gypsy did play a significant role in Bill's needlessly-too-soon death. Years have passed since then, and I never dreamed I'd see Gypsy's ugly face once more. Then, about three years ago, I was heartbroken over Johnny (as you know), so in order to heal, decided to find a bar that played real rock, not disco crap. I heard that Hole in the Wall was a good place to go for that. Imagine my surprise (and disgust) to see Gypsy there! I decided well, I'll just ignore him, I only came here to relax...but sure is strange!

Click here to read a poem I wrote back then, to "honor" Gypsy.

Then we met and became friends. You were so good to me, you lifted my spirits completely. Yet, once more, Gypsy stood in the way--and destroyed--a really good friendship AGAIN. Is this bizarre, or what? Before I continue, I want now to emphasize: Take care of yourself...Gypsy and his associates think nothing of damaging (or even killing) a person's life that they perceive is "in the way". He's done it once already, to someone I cared about...he may try again, though my every breath is a prayer that his horrid schemes will backfire. Jealousy can make terrible people do terrible things!

I think these evil people told you to stop associating with me...and probably conjured up a wicked passel of gossip to make you hate me (all lies), even to inspire you to be violent. I trust you are savvy enough to see through their dark intent, and would never dream of doing me any harm. I hope you appreciate my courage in standing strong for the sake of our friendship...and demonstrating my affections for you in ways that are not too obvious for these idiots to notice.

During my last few months at The Eagle, Gypsy befriended me...and I wanted to believe he was sincere. Turns out that he was not...for even more recently, he threatened me big time. Since bartender Ron did not kick him out, I had no choice but to leave...as I still stand alone in this battle, and care not to put my life in needless danger by foolish shows of bravado. Each time I was driven out of The Hole, I established myself at the Eagle Tavern, since that seemed to be your second favorite SOMA hangout. I had hoped you'd talk to me there, away from the intrigue at The Hole. Imagine my frustration to see Gypsy at The Eagle, too! Sadly, you stopped going there obviously because of my presence.

You should know that only bartender Ron welcomed me...thus we became friends (or so I thought), and I confided my loss of our friendship, in an attempt to rebuild this damaged bridge. Unfortunately, Ron turned out to be my enemy, too...though he did a good job of pretending to be a friend, even to help mend our friendship. You should know that it's me who was behind welcoming you back to South of Market...inspiring Ron to keep the door open for you. Now, I see he's taken all the credit, and has probably never said one kind word about me, to you. Indeed, I suspect now, that he actually spoke poorly of me, to say the least.

I spoke well of you to everyone who'd listen, including those jealous souls who hated (or acted like they hated) you...in my attempts to pave the way for your return. Obviously, it all backfired, with you possibly believing the horrid gossip spread against me.

Click here to read my final words with Ron.

Click here to read my correspondence w/Ron immediately preceding those final words.

Click here to read my list of grievances against Hole in the Wall GOON Saloon...wherein I identify the major culprits, as well as incidents. This includes Gary C., who acted like he hated you when we were friends. Seems the only reason he's recently buddied up with you, is to get back at me. So please be careful...he and others may be playing you for a fool; watch out when they grow tired of you.

IN CONCLUSION (whew!):

You either really hate me (which I doubt), or pretend to hate me (which I believe). By feigning disgust toward me, you can more easily root out my real enemies and, hopefully, put the kibosh on their malicious ways. Were we friends in public, they wouldn't reveal to you what their true feelings and intentions are...and would most likely make your life a living hell. I think you might even possibly be in a most difficult situation, and feel forced to continue to despise me...or at best, ignore me. Since our separation, you never once told me to leave, or that you don't like me...during those times I showed up at your place(s) of work or recreation. Thus indicating that things are not so simple, and that it might even grieve you if I give up on you, believing that you really have turned against me.

I have a strong intuition that I should never give up on you...only just be wary not to force things. If I am correct, then it seems you took a lot of nasty hits by protecting me from violence while we both were still at The Hole, during the time you ceased associating with me. You wilfully paid a high price, by risking your valuable contacts, putting you in danger of homelessness and worse. So I am doing my best to return the favor, by standing by you in every way possible that will not bring further risk towards your survival. I do not hate you in the least...in fact, I value our friendship infinitely, and will continue to do so for the rest of my life (whether or not we ever resume our excellent camaraderie).

Remember when I said this about you, at The Hole: "I'll do whatever it takes to win Larkin's friendship. I'll go through hell and back again, if need be." Little did I dream back then, my declaration was simply the prelude to a great (and often terrible) adventure, and a testing of my beliefs. But in being so tested, you witnessed what a good friend I can be, and that not once have I allowed the nobility of our friendship to be tarnished by anyone...not even by you. For you do like to test me, don't you? May I call you asshole again? (Thanks, I needed to get that off my chest.)

One way I'll know our friendship is back on track, is if you answer my questions, and do so truthfully and gladly. Such as:

• Why did you stop associating with me after the mugging?
• Why did you and Jeff make out in front of me for so long? (It hurt me only because I felt shame for your childish display.)
• Why did you protect me various times, from possible danger (even though you otherwise refused to talk to me?)
• Has bartender Ron ever spoken well of me to you, at all?
• Why do you seem to be owned by a group of wicked people?
• Why can't you contact me in secret? (And why don't you now?)

I hope you realize what a painful and frustrating adventure this has been for me. For example: trying to communicate to you, all the terrible scenarious I've gone through for the sake of our frienship...including getting this document to you. My printer no longer works, so I couldn't even print it out and slip the paper into one of my enclosed Mad Magazines. I can only trust you will get on the Internet, to view my important letter, which web address I scratched on one of the enclosed magazines...and that it gets into the right hands: yours! I figured the odds are more in my favor, if I leave my gift packet to you (concealed beneath a newspaper I'll leave behind), at this tacqueria where you work.

So my frustration and grief remain...though hopefully after almost two years, will finally morph into a joyful and fulfilling adventure with you freed from your prison w/o walls...and your stunning, new career will ensue: as a highly-paid professional party mixer for gay events and bars. You are a very talented and witty man, as well as heart-throbbingly handsome! (And you do a great job of making absolutely anyone feel welcome and included in a gathering...even "wallflowers".)

I also pray for your well being in every way...including victory over your addiction to alcohol and tobacco. I want you healhy, as well as wise and wealthy...for a long, long time! In a nutshell:

PS: Thanks for visiting my web site last year, to read "Larkin: A Hidden Treasure"! How do I know it was you? Well, I have a search engine on my web site, which reports back to me each week a list of searches made. It doesn't of course know who did each search, but the phrase you searched for was a dead give away...since it was the same phrase ("Hidden Treasure") I wrote in one of those three letters I sent you c/o The Hole. (And since it was so shortly after you read that letter.) The phrase was thus:

Tue May 16...10:27:48 2006...Skits on topic hidden treasres

Now, it was not a skit, and you misspelled "treasure", but the phrase "hidden treasres" was sufficient to track down that particular article. I hope you appreciated my compliments there...and that your cynicism did not lead you to believe that I'm not genuine in my praise for you. For I most certainly am!

In love and friendship,

The Zekester