“Don’t be scared. I must be prepared and on the lookout. You have no idea how many people would like to get rid of me.”
“I have no doubt about that for a moment. I don’t know how you handle so much stress.”
“Come on, Jacob, give me a little kiss on the mouth and relieve my stress.”
Was I going to kiss him? No way! But I had it in my mouth before running away. Out of my shock, the coffee cup fell from my hand. I heard a collective gasp from all the guests. This piece was irreparable.
I completely messed up. (Twenty years later, I went to Washington and the gays from the Capitol still remember the stupid “Mexican” who broke an over a hundred-year-old, original Romanov family cup! My current partner can testify that the whole story was true). Hoover couldn’t care less about the cup. He was laughing his head off.
“Ted, you won’t believe it. I was just with Edgar Hoover at Sandy’s house. And the most incredible thing is that he knew my name and asked me for a kiss.”
“Listen, you shitty Jew, tell that waiter to never take you to one of Sandy’s parties again. Do you think you’re so clever? Do you think it was a coinci-dence? That SOB Hoover called me earlier, pretending to be innocent, to ask if I knew you because you were going to work as a waiter. Don’t you realize that he does it to let me know that he knows about us? Do you think he’s going to care about you when 134
you can’t even blow your nose properly? He wants to blackmail and threaten me! And now everyone knows that a shmuck broke a unique Romanov cup.
And stop hanging out with that stupid waiter who cheats on you every day and is a nobody. Don’t tell me anything else because I want to kill you for being so foolish. Do you know that Tolson, Hoover’s “assis-tant” or lover, doesn’t find it funny when someone messes with him and that an innocent little kiss is going to cost you dearly? After JFK’s death, Mary Pinchot, Kennedy’s lover, was shot in the park in front of her house. She hated Hoover and knew who killed her lover. Hoover kills, understand that.”
“Okay, Ted. I’ll leave the Capitol, but you must make me a promise. Things are going to get ugly at the University. The gays are going to start a war against the communists, their control of the Student Government, and their support for Cuba. I need the National Guard not to intervene. Tell Hoover that the faggots are at war with the communists, he’ll like that. Let the university police handle it, they won’t do anything. You’ll never come out of the closet, but you can lend a hand to the new generation.”
Well, here ends my job as a waiter at the secret gay parties in Washington D.C., as it was the best time to be homosexual and the worst time to be homosexual.