In the dead of the night, don't go changing money for strangers

It’s all on the money

It was a chance to eavesdrop on a conversation that left me wondering about human psychology and social engineering along with the ease with which one can so easily fall for scams or deceit by reason of vanity overwhelming essential self-awareness.

It was at first three people engaged in bargaining activity over money, I could hear the young man and the lady resist every entreaty, that I immediately thought the other man was trying to pawn off some baubles or contraband just to get cash in hand.

The couple was not persuaded and as they separated and this in the witching hour, the man wheeled his bicycle which I had not noticed before towards a black cab where he addressed the driver, and I got a full context of what was going on.

Pounding for a dollar in hand

He had a $100 bill that he wanted to exchange for Pounds Sterling cash and for some reason, this might have been so urgent that he was not ready to wait for a Bureau de Change to open for that business transaction, or so it would seem before my mind took a ponder on the brief scenario that I had witnessed.

The exchange rate at today’s prices suggests $100 would be exchanged for something between £77 and £82 and that is not accounting for transaction costs, commissions, and other charges. I heard the man negotiating from £80 down to around £60.

I won’t know what an authentic $100 bill looks like and how to account for whether it is legal tender or a counterfeit, then a stranger approaches you in the middle of the night with what seems like a bargain, you none the wiser of where he got the bill, beguiled by whatever sob story he has to regale, and your better instincts see you parting with £70 for this unverified paper purporting to be the almighty dollar, you hoping at your convenience you can walk up to a teller at a Bureau de Change and get £80 or maybe £85 for it.

The vanity of half-knowledge

I hate to think of the number of people who have been suckered into the laundering of counterfeit notes and this is not to say the bill in question was counterfeit. Then, many of us might deign to think ourselves seasoned numismaticians (which might read like a neologism, but it is in the Oxford dictionary, I checked), take any bill and give it the handling, feel, sight, light, and smell test, convinced in our assured dilettantism that we have the Real McCoy, only to find at the end of the conversation with the teller, the next day, the teller goes out of sight for a few minutes and next you are being frog-marched by the local constabulary to the station to answer questions, you would never have convincing answers for.

And indeed, that is the quandary, you never got the name of the stranger, he offered no personal details apart from the soothing repartee that eased you gently out of the suspicious and cautionary into the trusting and persuaded, by a total stranger who could easily have been a ghoulish apparition from the city graveyard donning flesh and apparel for the night, just returning from whatever meetings the dead attend.

Always see strangers at night as strange

Yes, I am totally wary of strangers in the dead of the night, striking up conversation with them is something I so totally avoid even as I could be already backslapping strangers in the daytime after a few minutes of engagement. The most I would aver is to tell the time when asked and at a good arm’s length away.

I cannot say if the man did get to change his $100 bill before the breaking of the dawn, but what coursed through my mind was the need to have the presence of mind not to even countenance the thought of exchanging money for strangers, give them something for an urgency, if that is the case, but if you at all listen to the tales and get carried away in the moment that your vanity trammels reason and good sense to assume you are qualified to undertake that transaction, I’ll like to hear that your story is nothing like that worst case scenario I allowed my thoughts to drift to, such that my appreciation of the innate goodness of strangers and humanity is ever so slightly hit.

This could easily have been another Coronavirus streets of Manchester blog. It isn’t.

You can't just walk away

Their lives matter too

I might have come across as uncompromising and harsh in my last blog regarding the man who finally accepted the truth of his sexuality conflict, however, to the detriment of other lives, the lives of his wife and two daughters sacrificed to his perfidy.

Blog: On men I cannot respect

I am implacable on the matter; you cannot just walk away as if you have extracted valuables from detritus and so keep the spoils like a rogue miner who panned a nugget of gold and left the mine to completely forget the life before the find.

Looking for an outlet

By coincidence, I came upon a story on the response of an agony aunt to a man similarly married for 25 years who had been cheating on his wife and had previously formed 2 gay relationship unbeknownst to her. He ruefully admits he might have messed up his wife, then attempts an exculpatory angle of suggesting he had always provided for her and they had 2 children together. Bunkum! [Oregon Live: Dear Abby: Gay man’s first step out of the closet should be to tell his wife of 25+ years] [The Advocate: Dear Abby's Vicious Reply to Closeted Man Cheating on Wife of 25 Years]

Reading it, I was left wondering if it was not the one and the same man, between the story I wrote about and the pretensions to residing the United States, writing to the agony aunt. Who knows? The similarities are uncanny, the publication in the magazine probably lagging the reality of events but let us not dwell on speculations.

Face up to the consequences

To the agony aunt, he wondered if it was worth coming out at this time of his life, the corollary being he wanted to continue living a double life and cheating on his wife. A convenient situation for him where he did not have to face the truth. It is a depth of cowardice that it breath-taking in its audacity though writing to the agony aunt might suggest there was a pang of conscience somewhere in his being.

In my view, Abby’s response was not vicious at all, it was straight talking truth, she saw through his chicanery; he was looking for a new gay relationship and once he had it, he would move on unperturbed. Not so fast, she interjected. Tell your wife and once she knows, her life would have to take on a trajectory after you that can be quite consequential in the realisation of the betrayal to which she had lost 25 years of her life. The gravity of that alone might well require professional help.

And again, I cannot excuse the fact that a person knowing their sexuality would then take marital vows of deception to cover for their internal conflict, hoping that satisfying the demands of society might just be curative of an innate state of being. Much I am supposed to have some affinity with the man, my humanity is endeared to those lie to, betrayed, left behind, and hurt.

It is quite consequential

Whether the marriage continues or ends amicably or in acrimony, nothing can fully compensate for the fact that when the spouse to the vows that included, ‘Till death do us part’, and indeed, not all marriages work out, to think what would put it asunder is the heretofore unrevealed sexuality of the person they married might be a shock very few hearts can endure without lasting damage. In the last story, the wife and daughters were nasty to ex-husband and father, I do not blame them.

Without equivocation, I say again, if you have sexuality conflict, regardless of societal pressures and whatever else might inspire you to live a lie, by deceptively involving someone else to cover for your apparent inability to face up to your personal truth. Just don’t do it.

I have written a few blogs on these issues before and they are referenced below:

Blog: To perceptive and accepting parents

Blog: Kenny Badmus: Thank you for coming out wonderfully

Blog: Opinion: Now, a thought for Kenny Badmus' wife

Blog: Opinion: Regardless of our sexuality, our past and future is our whole story

Blog: Thought Picnic: On the price of a marriage contracted to make you straight

On men I cannot respect

He came out

He had a story, in the words that read, “I got divorced last week, after a 25-year marriage to a woman and came out. Huge cloud lifted.” To which I would always have more than a consideration for other parties involved. There is quite a chunk of life in 25 years, I could only hope that the finality of that union was understanding and amicable.

Sadly, in his response, it was not, his ex-wife and two adult daughters had been nasty to him. Who can blame them? Now, I have some sympathy for people who struggle with their sexuality in constructs of community and society where they might suffer rejection, ostracism, persecution, embarrassment, or shame.

He conned her

On the issues where external factors can make one’s life unbearable, there might be some concern for the life and wellbeing of that person. However, when you know your situation is complicated you do not use the life of another to make adjustments without acquainting them fully with the dilemma you are in. In my view, consent is material, understanding must be there, and agreement must be secured for a mutually beneficial arrangement, especially when marriage is involved.

To secret your sexuality and rob your spouse of the truth of your identity, then along with your offspring deign to live a lie is at best reprehensible. And, eventually, you might come to live in the truth of who you are with a huge cloud of self-denial lifted off your life, but you will have betrayed and damaged other lives in the process.

He did wrong

Now, everyone has to live their own lives and maybe the passage of event and time will allow other parties to gain the benefit of a huge cloud lifted off their own lives, but to except acquiescence and acceptance just because you now feel good even after they have been left in palpable shock is naïve, selfish and nigh on unforgivable. Whether any healing will come to them, one cannot say.

My thoughts cannot be too respectful of the man where the woman and the children have been poorly regarded and the man is out there living his wildest dreams. If you have sexuality conflict in your life, do not under any circumstances without consent and full agreement contract a marriage of deception to ameliorate or hopefully convert your sexual attraction because, it will not go away, the burden will continue to stress you until you break and break many lives too. Just don’t do it!

Thought Picnic: On the price of a marriage contracted to make you straight

Preamble: The timeframe of the origin of this blog was, in fact, the 8^th of February, the day after he came out, but an abrupt conversation with a friend put this in the cooler until today. Then, in a blog I wrote earlier, I referred to work I was doing on this blog. It would appear, I have been able to conclude the piece and publish it with as close as possible to the fervour that inspired it over a month ago.

Blog - Thought Picnic: My life really does include my partner

Doors falling off the rattled closet

When news broke last month of Philip Schofield’s revelation that he was gay in the midst of a 27-year marriage, I was ready to applaud him for coming out, but I could not completely commit myself to any celebration of the news without consideration of the others besides him involved.

Much was made of the love and support of his wife and two adult daughters to this coming out moment and as is always the case, people contributed messages of support for his courage, his bravery, and his decision to be true to himself.

Yet, I am still here thinking not so much of Philip, but of Stephanie Lowe, his wife of 27 years and everyone else who for all their open-mindedness to the sexuality of others might well be considerably affected by it much closer to home.

Always think of the partners

Now, I cannot speak to the quality of the relationship between Philip, Stephanie, and their daughters, but as the developing news begins to generate other perspectives, one of the headlines does say she was ‘absolutely devastated’ to learn her husband is gay. That she has had the time and space to process the information will not make it any easier for her.

There was a scene in the film, Body of Evidence which starred Madonna where in court she was asked about what she did when she discovered her husband was in a homosexual relationship. She said, “I couldn’t compete.”

It is a fundamental psychological break when your spouse directs their sexual affections to a same-sex liaison. What you can put up to fight for the affectations of your spouse in situations where the object of their affections is the same sex as you is lost in the battle with the opposite sex.

Blog - Opinion: Now, a thought for Kenny Badmus' wife

Knowing is usually a process

However, by the way, I appreciate that sexuality conflict and the point at which one is ready to accept wholeheartedly that they are one way or the other is a complex process of development. It is quite possible that people do not realise who they are until when they are completely committed to a heteronormative path and in it find dissatisfaction and discontent in the relationship they forged in the hope that it would make them whole.

I believe there is a discussion to be had when such issues arise. In my own case, whilst my very first sexual experience was at 7 with a female much older than I, I cannot say that I had a primary sexual attraction to the female. It never developed beyond the appreciation of beauty, intellect, and personality.

From about the age of 7, I do know that something about men made them more attractive to me than I could understand. That attraction was taken advantage of by some people employed to care for us as kids. The little threat here or there to force compliance made me a willing catamite to a few trusted people all into my teens.

Accepting yourself is deep self-discovery

After the age of accountability, I agonised about who and what I was, consumed with guilt especially the religious kind, I sought ways to rid myself of this thing when at the same time, I could not forgo my predilection for same-sex liaisons. With time, I found there were others like me, and we were not evil even if maligned.

At the time I was about to leave Nigeria, I was being blackmailed, I refused to pay up and challenged my blackmailer that when he tells whoever he decides to tell, he should be ready to explain how we both got together without any coercion for the many months of whatever we did. I guess, that put paid to that.

As I arrived in The UK, I was ready to come to terms which who I was, I sought out and found people boldly expressing themselves without fear. In the midst of such confident people, I gained the confidence to accept my own sexuality and to a direct question about it, I gave a clear answer, for I was of the view that if you asked, you just wanted a confirmation rather than a denial.

Peeling the onion of coming out

To my parents, siblings, and relations, I was a bit more circumspect and discreet, it took much longer to broach the subject. In the case of my parents, they were in the UK in The 1960s when the worst thing you could call anyone was a ‘bugger’.

It came with all sorts of connotations of homosexuality, paedophilia, bestiality, and murder, I felt I should save them from such an association, though it did not stop me from having same-sex relationships completely away from the scrutiny of those I didn’t want to know. I had compartmentalised my life.

Blog - Thought Picnic: The onion of truths

With time, the pressure, and the expectation to get married became a constant refrain in conversations with home, I batted away the direct questions and prevaricated on other requirements.

I was offered arranged marriages by many who thought I was the most eligible bachelor around. This all to satisfy the needs of culture and become as it were ‘responsible’, I could easily have contracted a marriage of convenience, even gone along to have children. There were many offers that just required I ask, but I did not step up to any of those opportunities.

In a series of tweets yesterday, whilst using the news as a reference point, I put a perspective to things which are probably not the broadest in terms of issues of sexuality and marriage, I hope it contributes to the discussion.

I decided long ago

It was a clear decision I made in my own life that despite the expectations and pressure, I could not with the complicated issue of my sexuality enter into a lavender marriage, and there were many unbeknownst to them ready to walk up the aisle with me, if I dared ask. /1

— Akin Akíntáyọ̀ 🏳️‍🌈 #FBPE (@forakin) February 7, 2020

My life and the issue of sexuality was complicated enough I swore to myself not to embroil anyone else in that situation, it was hard enough to be in the closet, live a false life with the risk of being exposed leading to scandalising a broader relationship tree beyond the close family ties.

If I alone had to deal with the issue, it was contained without compelling anyone else to play to a script they never signed up for in the beginning. In another way, I was not successfully praying away the gay, rather, I was getting more affirmation of who I was towards the maturation of accepting who I am.

Other extenuating factors came to bear, the issue of offspring or heirs, the concept diminished with time as I began to make peace with myself with the likelihood, it might never happen. I did not consign myself to default to the findings that many prematurely born didn’t go on to sire children.

However, I felt after a certain age, it did not matter any more and then post-chemotherapy the natural ability to procreate was lost and I was not going to expend any energy in the quest to regain what rarely was a goal in life.

Be yourself, not another person

Then I concluded that contracting marriage was not a panacea, an antidote, or proven conversion therapy for personal or imposed sexuality conflict. Some people might have found adaptations with this distraction, sexuality variance was not a change of clothes, it is more ingrained than that.

It has now transpired that Philip Schofield’s hand was forced, besides the view that his sexuality was already known in closed circles and certain liaisons were about to be made public that he might lose control of the narrative of his private life, some unscrupulous tabloid editor that gotten hold of the story and was ready to go the press. In view of that, he had no other alternative, but to come clean. [Byline Investigates]

I feel vindicated that I was not immediately celebrating the event and still feel that whilst he might now freely live his truth alone with the support of his wife and daughters, he suspected his sexuality before he contracted the marriage, he could not shake off the urges of his primal sexuality and regardless of the public front presented, lives have been more radically affected than the façade we see. [The Guardian]

Incredible India: Usurping Sly Bastards (USB)

These are no deals

I remember writing years ago about deals that people get from hawkers of fake watches and gadgets that roam the social outlets around Gran Canaria commercial centres.

In my view, greed is almost always at play, the hawker looking almost too respectable to be true, sweet-talking patrons about an unmissable deal.

The patrons out for some fun are caught in the trap of viewing what they do not need and depending on how pliable they are will almost always acquire what they do not want.

Weeping in silence

If the deal is struck, the hawker makes away with the cash, a veritable confidence-trickster who has taken advantage of the gullible who have irresistibly allowed they vanity to get the better of them and in so doing acquired a dud with no guarantee but the word of a stranger with no address, shop or traceable from of contact.

When the dust settles, the patron realises they have been taken for fools, though they silently mourn their stupidity and in self-flagellation and self-pity swear to themselves never to be caught in such a scam again, but they do.

Usurping Sly Bastards

Now, in New Delhi, as I went for a walk, I was accosted by persons hawking off 64GB USB sticks for prices that made your eyes pop – surely, those goods must have fallen off a lorry.

I did not need a USB stick and there was no reason to add to my collection of sticks just because it looked like a deal. The best deal is one where you can return it if you are not satisfied.

A few days ago, I was told those USB sticks were duds, now, I did not know how dud they were until this afternoon after lunch, a trainee colleague showed off his bargain buy.

Another colleague took it off him and prised it open to show an empty cavity – that blew me away, I expected some circuitry, at least – nothing but a USB connector and a plastic case pretending to be a product of Kingston Technology, one of the market leaders in memory and storage products.

Bang them up

It is one thing to sell counterfeit products, maybe another to sell stolen goods but to be a purveyor of goods where the hawker deliberately sets out to cajole, deceive, extort and dishonestly con unsuspecting tourists on the streets of New Delhi, one is well advised of the need to walk with caution and offer no acknowledgement to persons unknown, no matter how attractive their wares.

One would hope these people are taken off the streets but it probably is part of the mystique of Incredible India to which some have unwittingly become the fool soon parted from their money and left holding a dud for a souvenir of their dumbness.