I was 23 years old when I had my first gay experience. I hadn't come out until I was 24, so like most first experiences, I was still in the closet. I wish I could say I've had many similar scenarios as my first at age 23, but now a decade later and I'm not sure I have.
I was living in DC for the summer, studying for the LSAT and working as an intern at a prestigious DC Law Firm. Although it was technically just an internship, the goal was to get a job offer before I hopefully headed off to a top 10 Law School.
The work at my internship was arduous. I usually got to the office around 7:30am and didn't leave till around 10:30 or 11pm. I worked my tail off that summer, but to be honest I always felt at my best mentally when I was working hard. I was previously a D1 Tennis Player and had always been the fittest guy on tour. At 5'10 I wasn't the tallest, big-serving hulk out there, my my lean muscular frame certainly could do some damage, and I ultimately had a very successful collegiate career.
Although I was, and still am, inherently competitive and hard-working, I am also quite shy. Both of my parents were corporate workhorses, and my two brothers and I were raised by live-in Nannies. Bereft of the warm and fuzzy household I craved, I always aimed to please. At the same time, and it was likely because I was closeted and dealing with deeply internalized homophobia, mature alpha men intimidated me. And there were plenty of extremely big egos at this firm....
Phil Pratt was arguably the most intimidating. He was about 6'3 and probably close to 270 lbs. You could tell at one point he was a collegiate football player, but now closer to 60, he was a beefy, barrel-chested man with big legs and a gut. Even still, you knew Phil was a jock. His forearms were thick and hairy, and just about every intern was both afraid and envious of Phil at the same time.
Phil intimated the shit out of me. Definitely not on purpose, but whenever I had to work on something for him, I anxiously knew we'd have to have a one-to-one meeting for me to present my findings. Often in these meetings my anxiety would kick in. Phil would kick back in his chair listening to my voice quiver while my dry mouth didn't help. As my own worst critic, it was at these points where I felt like a hopeless pussy who could never be a partner working at a firm with men like Phil. With my throat tightening and my voice quivering, I just imagined what Phil thought of me...what a scared little boy...how had I even had the balls to get this internship?
By early August, despite the "exposure therapy" of presenting my findings to Phil on numerous occasions, I was still finding myself at peak anxiety when I had to meet with him in his office one-on-one. It drained me every time...and after meeting I felt defeated and worthless. The blows to what little ego I had were gut wrenching. When it got really bad, I almost felt like Phil felt bad for me...but this was a comforting feeling...I was harsh on myself, my own delusions of unworthiness.
It was a Thursday night and I was hunched over my laptop trying to finish my last email before I could catch the last subway and hopefully fall into my bed by midnight. I had no girlfriend to get back to...only my roommate Eddy who was on my collegiate tennis team with me.