The past year has been a reckoning for powerful, corrupt, shady men to finally pay the piper for years of criminal behavior, sexual assaults, and the mistreatment of those in inferior positions.  Most notably, Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey. Looking back on these events, I’ve also taken stock of my own experiences and I think perhaps I came very close to having my own PG-13 #MeToo moment.  I think. However, it definitely wasn’t a MeToo moment, because I flipped the script and used the situation to make sure I got what I needed. Wait, did I MeToo him?

Anyone in the education world knows how slow the state board can be when it comes to certifications, accreditations, testing and all the other tedious pieces of paper teachers have to obtain (at a very pricey fee) in order to keep teaching.  I had just moved out of NY state in the early 2000s for graduate school. I was eager to begin teaching in the area. Graduate school is hella expensive and I needed to pay for it! Knowing the process takes a year and a day (if lucky!) I had all my documents certify mailed to the state offices MONTHS before the school year was set to begin.  Come August 1, still no certification. A road trip had been planned for the next week since opening day of schools was fast approaching.

That Friday night, I randomly started talking to a man at a cocktail party and could tell he was hardcore flirting with me (one just knows these things after all) and casually mentioned I was a teacher.  I began to explain the problems I was having with the state offices. Lucas (not his real name) told me he worked for the Department of Education in a local office and could probably help me out! HALLELUJAH!  Appointment made for that Monday, in two days. Now here is where it starts getting a little dicey.

The “subtle” flirting became a full on onslaught of sexual innuendo and lame ass pick-up lines. It was hard not to see how visibly uncomfortable I was.  Here I was stuck in a rainbow colored catch 38! I desperately needed this appointment but I wasn’t really attracted to him. He seemed like a decent guy, minus the overt sexual harassment.  I quickly made up some excuse, a boyfriend still in NY who I was madly and deeply in monogamous love with. He accepted this half-truth/blatant lie but the flirting continued. I finally excused myself from the conversation and the party and spent the rest of the weekend preparing for my “interview.”

Monday came around, I dragged my hungover self out of bed at 8am, showered, dressed and put on my lucky tie!  Lucas ushered me into his office quickly shutting the door behind me, enveloping me in a hug and began caressing my ass with his hands.  How considerate of him! I didn’t return the affection, but I did, remind him of my (nonexistent) faraway longtime companion and we got down to official teacher business.  Actual business not monkey business!

Thirty somewhat uncomfortable minutes later I exited the office with my fingerprint clearance, drug test appointment and two interviews.  I also left with my two certifications — the certifications had already been approved and were probably already en route to me via snail mail.   I ended the day with 2 job offers and quickly accepted the one I felt was the best fit for me. It was a middle school ELA position taking over for a woman going on maternity leave.  At the end of the year, the job is hers to go back to, however, she was at the school the day of my interview. She pulled me aside and assured me that she had no intentions of coming back next year and that the job would be mine and that I needed to take it.  I thanked her profusely, and silently thanked whoever necessary for once again, putting me in the right place at the right time.

I kept in contact with Lucas throughout my teaching career in Florida.  I would go to his office, pretty much, anytime I needed something: renewing or adding certifications, registering for workshops and continuing ED classes.  I would casually drop by his office, say hi, get felt up a little and see if he was free for coffee or lunch. At some point I would casually mention what I needed.  Lucas was no dummy and more than once said “You only come to see me when you need something”. During those years, I created a variety of excuses as to why Lucas and I couldn’t take our “friendship” to the next level.  These excuses included me being celibate for a year to better myself. Also my nonexistent faraway boyfriend cheated on me, (even my fake boyfriends are jerks!), dumping me, breaking my heart and leaving me so shattered I was unable to even think about dating.

Writing this post I kept asking myself if I felt guilty about how I handled this situation. I know this might sound callous and cold but truthfully I don’t.  Looking at the bigger picture, thank to Lucas, and me being in the right place at the right time I was able to accomplish many things that I am proud of.

I got to work in three excellent schools, under the guidance of amazing principals and administrators.  I collaborated and befriended many outstanding teachers who served as mentors and friends, many of whom I am still close with today.  I had the chance to inspire, empower, and motivate over 1,000 young adults, trying to instill in them a love of literature. I coached young athletes on swimming and cross country teams.  I moderated clubs like FEA (Future Educators of America) and a Diversity Action Club, beaming as my students found the power to be the change they wanted to see in the world. My Insta feed is filled with former students and I love watching their lives and accomplishments and wins.

Was it my finest moment? Hardly!  Did it make my life easier and my teaching career smoother? A thousand percent. To be perfectly clear, Lucas in no way shape or form got me any job, but he did provide the open door that I desperately needed.  We both knew what the other was doing – we were both getting what we wanted and I think I got the better end of the bargain here. In the end, Lucas was a decent guy who knew he could help someone out that needed a break, and isn’t that what we should all strive to do.  So I got felt up a little here and there, a small price to pay for all that I got in return.

In the 90s and the early 2000s, MTV had a hit documentary series telling first person POV experiences. Each episode derived its title from the story it told, for example  “True Life: I have Diabetes,” or “True Life: I’m Getting Married!” My friends used to tell me if I was profiled on the show the title of the episode would be “True Life: I Fall in Love on Vacation”.

In past years, the trips my friends and I have taken together would inevitably begin with me meeting “the man of my dreams” on day one or two.  He would then join our group for the duration of the trip and essentially we would be in a long term committed relationship. For.A.Week. The trip would of course end in tears, usually on my end, with the promise of texts, phone calls, Skype sessions and weekend visits. Big mistake. Huge.  Trying to bring the relationship into the “real world” and out of vacationland causes the inevitable end, usually going down in a ball of gay flames.

On an Atlantis Cruise I fell head over heels in like with a handsome European dude on day one, party one.  We quickly became inseparable for the the trip, even having our own “spot” on the ship where the two of us would spend time together when we needed a break from the big parties.  How cute were we? (Vomit if you must, I completely understand.) Exiting the boat, my best friend and cruise roommate Jack, almost in tears himself kept telling us how sad he was for us.  My new boyfriend and I made plans for me to visit him during my Spring Break, (I was teaching middle school at the time) roughly six weeks away.

We emailed daily, and on Valentine’s Day, the intercom in my classroom buzzed telling me a student aide was delivering a package to my classroom.  Two minutes later, the door opens and I see a large bouquet of flowers floating on air into my classroom. Students erupt into cheers, and “oooh Mr. Dominic has a girlfriend.”

About a week before my Spring Break trip abroad his emails seemed different somehow, and were less frequent than the past weeks.  Asking him if everything was ok, he assured me we were good and he was looking forward to spending time with me. A few days later I arrive in London, and while still in the arrivals section of Heathrow Airport my beau lays it on me that he “has met someone else and he thinks their relationship has the potential to turn into something special and obviously his situation has changed.”  I felt like I had been sucker punched. Which technically I guess I was.

To make matters worse, his new BF worked in the gay district of London and apparently gave strict instructions to not bring the American bloke anywhere near his bar.  After the initial shock, disappointment and anger subsided I tried to salvage a fun trip but staying with my now “ex-boyfriend” and spending all day together proved to be more stressful than enjoyable.  Luckily I was rescued by an acquaintance from college who I met up with to have drinks with one night. Sensing the tension he texted me offering his extra bedroom for the remainder of my stay. Jumping at his generous gift a new trip began for me as he took me to dinner parties, bars and museums.  I boarded my flight feeling much less heartbroken than when I had arrived. I am forever grateful to my white knight, Jonathan. #scrantonroyals

A few years later, during a weeklong trip to Provincetown, Massachusetts, I once again met “the man of my dreams.”  As usual, he spends the week with my friends and I and of course we plan to meet in the real world, Atlanta this time.  My suitor proceed to tell me he has to work for most of the weekend. He told me this after I arrived (I am starting to sense a pattern).  Luckily, he had an amazing group of friends who took me under their wing assuring me it wasn’t me who was the problem, their “friend” really isn’t all that great of a guy.  About a year later the Atlanta “ghost” sends me a text with an apology detailing that he had been suffering in silence from severe depression due to the death of a family member a few months earlier. He further mentioned that he hid it from everyone he knew. He profusely apologized for the way he treated me, even offering me a free ticket to come back and see him so he could make it up to me.  I thanked him for the text and the apology, wished him luck on his recovery, and declined the offer of another visit. Fool me once…

Finally, a 50th birthday trip for my friend Will in Puerto Vallarta gave me the chance to break my cycle.  Thirteen friends were invited by Will to stay in a beautiful house on the ocean, which came complete with a dog — that I somehow adopted for the week.  I would walk him in the morning on the beach and he would sleep in the room I shared with my friend Phillip. We were the only two single men on the trip so I guess the dog liked the fact there were two beds in our room for him to sleep under, scaring us most nights when we stumbled in drunk forgetting he might be hiding beneath one of the mattresses!  

I made a pact with my friends – no LOVE on this trip!  The pact was unbreakable. Until the last night, the last bar we hit, I met a stunningly handsome Mexican/Canadian man who approached me asking if he could buy me a drink.  Fast forward to me postponing my flight home an extra day to spend another night in PV with my new friend. Upon leaving, we made plans to meet in Mexico City for New Years.  Once back on dry land, our emails and phone calls did not contain the same spark we had in PV, and we struggled to find common things to talk about. We mutually agreed that cancelling our upcoming trip was the right move.  If I had a therapist I think he would call this “my breakthrough”.

So what have I learned, if anything, from all these failed “romances”?  In more recent years my relationship free vacations for the most part, have been just as fun, just as crazy, just as relaxing and just as entertaining as the ones I just described, except with no tears at the end! And there have been trips where I could have behaved better, and made better choices. Each trip, each day we are given opportunities to do better, to be better and it is up to us to follow through and decide who we are going to be.

Next Spring I would love to go on another cruise. This time “True Life: I Fall in Love on Vacation” has officially been cancelled and is not up for renewal!  Lessons learned. Unless I meet the man of my dreams. I mean, you have to give love a chance, right?

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“I didn’t choose to be gay, I just got lucky!