Men in Warehouses

Sometimes when you are looking for love it gets all tangled up with sex in the same way you sometimes find yourself in a dark place fumbling for a light switch. In an empty warehouse, sex glows like a jewel on black velvet.  Love is another thing. Love cannot bloom in the darkness.

Though my adventures with the men in warehouses have faded, the embers of memories will glow forever. I have been with two different fellows in the warehouses where they worked. The first one lived in a warehouse. He had a loft way up in the corner of a cement factory.  He was an inventor that designed and built a big machine that added filler to cement.  He and his partner marketed it and had made lots of money.  The company was still thriving when I met them, but there was trouble too.

His partner had a high maintenance wife who spent lots of money.  They had a couple of kids and when I met the guy he was very stressed out with bills.  My fellow was not that busy.  He was a laid back and had no money but his mind, however; his mind was genius and worked overtime to imagine all sorts of colorful adventures for the two of us.

Years before, he had started a matchmaking website.  This was in the days before Match.com and this was also how I met him.  He and I were together a couple months until it became really obvious that he had very little money and the fun of visiting his loft began to wear off. However, the first couple times were interesting and exciting.

The warehouse was dark and empty. There were some rickety stairs up to his loft and he had a few flashlights and low table lights.  There was a very simple palette bed on a platform and a sink and bathroom way down below on the main floor.  He hauled up a bucket of water to wash me with.  Carefully, he splashed the warm water all over my body and used a washcloth to rub me dry.  For such a big guy, he was very gentle and one of those men who just knew the art of love making. We had fun outside the warehouse too.

He and I watched airplanes glide over the airfield across the street.  We sat on little folding lawn chairs in the parking lots. I remember him trying to fondle me as I bent over to get the folding chairs out of the trunk. We went out to breakfast a few times but he barely had enough money to order anything.  I rode around with him in his funny car until I decided to move on because he could not sustain a girlfriend. I was looking for love and he was not the one.

He remains a glowing spirit in a dark place.  His journey is a sad one but that bit of joy he gave me was appreciated and I am glad I found him in the emptiness.

Many years later I met another fellow in a warehouse.  This was a one time stand.  He almost died that night after I left from an asthma attack! I think I wore him out. At one point I do remember him saying that I could keep two men going which I have done a couple times but that is another post….  The truth is the toxic automotive paint fumes from his custom repair business were doing him in. He fixed foreign cars.  In the warehouse we could be away from family and houses and yes, even beds.  The rickety little stairs wound upwards to the loft, our secret hide away. Somehow we were free in that tight little space where we both gave our passion expression.  Cars were suspended all around us as we climbed the stairs to his loft.  We were like children playing in the attic, however like with most childish games, it was only pretend.

He lived right around the corner from me but we knew we would never blend our lives.  He had two young kids who lived with him. A nanny who took care of them as he and his wife were divorced and figuring things out.  He wanted to move to Sedona.  Besides an email he sent to afterwards that said he had been in the hospital after our encounter for an asthma attack, I never heard from him again.  I think we had both had enough.

They are dark empty memories but still have some glowing light inside that darkness. I always thought of them as adventures.  I love adventures…