A Love Story

When I finished with my spiel, she gently touched my hand and said she understood. I was surprised, to say the least. She told me to head to Boston Trial Court and seek a restraining order. She told me who to talk to, and to drop her name. I went and proceeded exactly as she told me. An hour and a half later, I left the court with a smile on my face. The court was going to serve a restraining order to my ex-girlfriend Stephanie Parks.

I went home, feeling a bit relieved. I went out to celebrate. I dropped by the Lotus Bar, a popular joint with young gay and bisexual men in the city. I ordered a drink. A Hennessee. Guess who walked in? Police officer Gina Dawson, clad in a red shirt, black leather pants and knee-high black leather boots. Oh, and she also wore a black fedora. I was stunned. The gal looked good enough to eat. Better than any supermodel I'd seen in ages. I waved at her and smiled. Gina noticed me, and grinned. She sat on the stool next to me. I offered her a drink but she declined. Insisted on paying for her own. That was surprising, to say the least. We began talking. And this, folks, is how it all began.

I learned a lot about Gina Dawson. She was a native of Atlanta and a graduate of Georgia Tech who moved to Boston three years ago. She enrolled at the Boston Police Academy and later joined the Boston Police Department. She was surprised to see me in a queer bar, said something about my not seeming the type. I smiled, and told her that I was bisexual. My own words surprised me. I haven't told anyone I was bisexual since a certain teammate outed me to my parents and coaches, costing me my chance of making it into the National Football League. For a black man, telling a black woman about his bisexuality isn't always a good idea. Black women aren't fond of bisexual black guys. However, once again, Gina proved to be the exception.

She looked at me for a long while, and sipped her drink. Then, she touched my hand and leaned closer, whispering something to me.