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Males of the City: RISK! Reacts
00:29:21
Timothy Vaux's story “Males of the City,” first told on So Say We All, starts with a casual wave to a stranger and ends somewhere considerably more interesting. Kevin Allison hears it for the first time in this RISK! Reacts episode and finds himself relating to it in ways he didn’t anticipate!
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- [00:01]
A
I taped the socks underneath my armpits. On this episode of Risk Reacts, you'll
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hear, but it's too late to cut an onion and rub it into my armpits.
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And then you'll hear, this doesn't taste like foot sweat. That's me, Kevin Allison, on the show where people tell true stories they never thought they'd dare to share. If I had all the options, I'd take them for you. If I knew all the love songs, I'd sing them for you. If I had more time, I'd spend it with you. All the money in the world and this song too, to respond. Hey folks, welcome to another Risk Reacts episode where I listen to a story for the first time and give you my instant reactions. This is kid 14 with a song called here's Pop behind me now. There's a link to his music in the show notes, and if you'd like your music on Risk, just go to risk-show.com music to find out how. So there's a podcast called so say we all that we've recently shared stories from. In fact, our friend Ray Craig Christian came on and did a Risk Reacts with a story called A Breath of Fresh Air about a Marine's experience in Iraq. Anyway, when our producer John La Sala heard the so say we all story we're gonna hear today, he didn't share it with me. He knew it just had to be a Risk Reacts episode. So I have no idea what this story's about, but John seems to think I'll have a thing or two to say about it. So I'll listen to it for the first time here with you. And when it's over, I'll come back on and we'll see if John was right. So after this quick break, we'll hear a story by Timothy Vo on so say we all back in February of 2025. If dying is something, I would die for you. But here's Father. Martha listens to her favorite band all the time in the car, gym, even sleeping. So when they finally went on tour, Martha bundled her flight and hotel on Expedia to see them live. She saved so much she got her seat close enough to actually see and hear them. Sort of. You were made to scream from the front row. We were made to quietly save you. More Expedia made to travel savings vary and subject to availability. Flight inclusive packages are atoll protected.
- [02:55]
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- [03:28]
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My neighbor always has great parties. It's an opportunity to get to know a different side of the other tenants and meet a few new people. But I'm a bit of a wallflower though. But after a couple of drinks and a couple of tokes, I pluck myself off the wall and succumb to the laid back vibe feeling being sponged away all the built up self effacing goop It's a Saturday night in north park and I've just come home from such a party. It's still early and I'm feeling restless, wondering how I'm going to spend the rest of this warm summer evening. The party may be over, but my evening is not and I look out at the busy street below for inspiration. Remember turning on the night emanates from my speakers. That genre is like an audible guess that gets me in a mood and I feel like I'm hosting the neighborhood party for all the clusters of chatty conspiring groups passing below, and in their wake wafts through my window the essence of true romance, as though they've all bathed in fine Acapulco gold. I identify as happily single and I made that choice after realizing I'm not good in relationships. Plus I'm a lousy picker. I was devastated after two strong candidates unexpectedly died within months of our first date. So there's that curse. One other one tried to move me way up to a town called Snobsville. I always questioned my trust in that first initial warm feeling and then lost it completely. Exactly 10 years ago after the police dragged the last one out of my house. I'll accept some blame. There was some selfishness involved, maybe because I was a spoiled only child. I was also lonely and easily intimidated with parents who fought all the time except for on Christmas and anniversaries when they exchanged their love through Cadillacs and golf club sets. Christmas and birthday cards telling me what a good son I was after a year of making me feel otherwise left me jaded about relationships, love, Christmas and the ability to accept compliments. So since I'm accepted that, I'm wired to be single, I'm entitled to be a whore as much as I like. But then I've noticed that my advertised age goes up, the number of interested men checking out my profiles decline like a speeding roller coaster. And those are supposed to be fun. So excuse the cliche, I may as well enjoy the drop before I hit bottom. At my age, it doesn't help to be overly picky. But don't get me wrong, I mean there are many more things that have priority over my finding Fortification. I step away from the window now primed to inject myself into the steady flow. Heading towards the pumping heart that is downtown North Park. I grabbed the bongos a homeless friend had gifted me and jet down to the main intersection where I hope to join my street musician friends and their modest musical scene. There's no telling what will happen every time I head out the door, whether it's to my car, to a club or just walking to an ATM within 300ft of me. On either side of me there's karaoke and pizza and Thai food and sports bars and coffee shops. I even have the luxury of a 24 hour adult supply store just feet away for me to dash into for any hastily arrange late night tryst. Playing my bongos is probably as close as I'll get to my dream of being a drummer. Living where I do has given me many opportunities to help me check things off my bucket list that I didn't even know were on there. And that includes my dream of doing comedy. After a neighbor at a party encouraged me to take improv classes, it turns out I wasn't quite a natural that sometimes you win, sometimes you lose. Call me Deacon Blues after about hour of bongoing with my friends, I call it a night and head home intending to be on time to watch Saturday Night Live. Still feeling properly buzzed and maybe a little randy, I crawl like a viper through the crowds on the urban street, keeping open the unlikely possibility of ending the night making love languid and bittersweet. I expect I'll probably end up falling asleep in front of the TV like always. As I pass the colorful neon signs and halo lit lights, I wave good night to the familiar faces of all the ramblers and wild gamblers, shop proprietors and bouncers. I love my street with all its opportunities and surprises. I pass by the Mexican restaurant where I always exchange waves with a very attractive Hispanic man who works behind the Outside Grill. I don't know him, we've just always acknowledged each other. Whenever I walk by I see a familiar black ball cap and a black T shirt sitting on a brick wall next to the grill and I give my usual wave, but this time I don't get a wave back. I just keep on walking, thinking maybe he didn't see me. A minute later I arrive home where I proceed to change to my sleep attire. It's still warm out so I leave my door open and as I'm passing between my bathroom and bedroom I can see out through the screen door a dark figure standing in my courtyard. And I think it's still someone lingering from my neighbor's party. After a minute I look out again and the person hasn't moved and they're looking in my apartment. Maybe it's a friend. So I walk up to the door and peer through the screen to see standing out on the courtyard a guy with a black cap and and a black T shirt. I opened my screen door to get a better look and it wasn't the cook from the restaurant. It was a look alike that I had waved to, who interpreted that as a signal to come on over. So puzzled I asked can I help you? And he stands there with his hands in his pockets and a look of that hot Latino drunk passion in his eyes and my blood flow redirects to my southern region. All he says is sup. And without another word he simply walks up my porch steps and I just step back and let him in the apartment. And the next hour and a half was hot, crazy, sweaty fun, like one of those scenes right out of Queers, Folk or Sex in the City. It was not only spontaneous, it was wild and undomesticated, like two dogs freely romping around in the park, uninhibited by socially imposed barriers. After we catch our breath, he says his name is Tony. We make a tentative agreement to meet again, but next time having drinks first at a public place. After a couple of weeks of sexting, I learn he's into the nephew seduces uncle scene. And it just so happens that I love to role play. So the roles we text build together is that I'm a deadbeat uncle who doesn't give a shit about my nephew. But I'm half forced to watch him when my divorced sister decides to drop him off to go on one of her binges. A nephew will do anything to show his love for a father figure. So we set a date, place and a time. I arrive at the club and I scan across the crowd and then I spot the back of a head that's familiar. I squeeze through the crowd towards him and he turns around and says, oh, there you are. For the next five minutes, I continue our little uncle nephew role play, but he's not as responsive to my prompts as he was in his texts. I chalk it up to social awkwardness, or maybe he's a better texter than actor, and I suggest that we walk to my place and we leave before I even buy a drink. About 30 seconds before reaching my home, as a formality, I ask him, oh, you see, Your name is Tony. No, it's Jim. Oh, I'm sorry, I thought it was Tony. I replied, a little embarrassed because I'm not good with names. No, it's Jim. No, but Tony's a friend of mine. He left the bar about 30 minutes ago and was supposed to come back. I picked up the wrong guy, and I usually don't bring guys home from bars, but I feel a little embarrassed, and we stand at my gate, wondering what to do. It had been two weeks since I'd seen quick glimpses of Tony's face, and even then it was in the dark. So that was the cause for my second accident with mistaken identity. It was a coincidence that this Jim just happened to be a friend of Tony's. And then, not having seen him in two weeks, the mistake was understandable. As Jim and I are both putting our clothes back on, I get a text from Tony, who's back at the bar wondering where I was. And even though Jim and Tony are just friends, he begs me not to reveal our clandestine coupling to him, and I say, I won't. I'm a man of my word. Jim leaves, and I tell Tony, I was there. You weren't. I'm home now. Come on over. So I have a little extra time. So inspired now I take advantage of this time by giving my apartment the deadbeat uncle treatment. I throw piles of clothes everywhere, on the table, on the floor, our beer cans and bottles tipped over, and a pizza box. I love the creativity that hatches when I'm stoned and horny and when the other person can't commit to their own fantasy. I'm sitting in my chair, eyes closed, waiting for the sound of the gate to click closed. In the meantime, I'm mentally checking off all the boxes just to make sure that I have everything ready. But there's always one small detail that I think of at the last second that will complete the scenario. But it's too late to cut an onion and rub it into my armpits. Sometimes I tend to go overboard. So finally I hear the click of the gate, the swish of the door as it sweeps across the wood floor and the clunk of his first footstep. He finds me slumped back on a comfy chair, slovenly dress, unbuttoned plaid shirt over a white, old white tank top, backwards ball cap, my mouth agape and snoring. My knees are wide apart with my running shorts draped around my Timberland work boots on one hand. One hand is inside the elastic waistband of my jockstrap and the other is barely holding on to the TV remote control while American Booty plays on the television. I can hear him in heavy panting whispers, oh my God, why are you always drunk, Uncle Pendo? Ever so stealthily, he slips his hand into my cup and I can feel his hot breath on my inner thigh when I suddenly feel that warm wet sensation, I wake up. What the fuck? And I push him away. After my nephew disappears into the bedroom where he assumes the position, I storm around the apartment in a drunken rage, tormenting myself with a devil and an angel on each shoulder, telling me not to listen to the other one. He mumbles with his face in the pillow, whimpering, asking me if what we're doing is wrong, and I curse in his ear and tell him not to talk about this to anyone. That one night helped me come up with the best answer for whenever I'm asked, so what are you into? I respond, helping the other person bring out the creativity of their fantasy. I love my North park street and its gritty charm. There's always something to write about and this venue is actually on that street for the last 24 years. It's a cure all for me and I'm blessed to live in the heart of it. I may be single, happily single, but that doesn't mean I don't have a relationship. And that relationship is the vibe that energizes me every time I head out the door for whatever adventure awaits.
- [16:09]
A
Oh my God, that was so fun. And it just reminded me so much of myself when I was younger. I was super curious how old Tim actually is when this all takes place because gosh, that felt like me in New York in the 1990s. So funny. So funny. So yeah, that was a real treat. And I'll tell you what, I'm gonna take a quick break, collect my thoughts and when I return I'll share more about Timothy Veaux story.
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I have created the most advanced AI Soldier.
- [16:55]
A
The wait is over. Tron Ares now streaming on Disney Pl. We are looking for something, Something you've discovered. Give me something to believe and some of us will stop at nothing to get it ready. The countdown is complete.
- [17:12]
B
There's no going back.
- [17:14]
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Our directive is clear. Hang on. Tron. Ares now streaming on Disney Plus. Rated PG 13. It is not hard to destroy a college. Last season the podcast Campus Files brought you stories of fraternity, drug rings, stolen body part, campus cults, and more.
- [17:32]
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And now Campus Files is back for another season.
- [17:35]
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There's a guy screaming into his phone. He's like, I just saw Charlie Kirk
- [17:39]
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get assassinated right in front of me. Every week is a new episode and a new story.
- [17:43]
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It was so chaotic. It's almost like a university under siege. Listen to and follow Campus Files available now wherever you get your podcasts, this
- [17:52]
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episode is brought to you by Athletic Brewing company. No matter how you do game day, on the couch, in the crowd, or manning the snack table, Athletic Brewing fits right in with a full lineup of non alcoholic beer styles. You can enjoy bold flavors all game long. No hangovers, no buzz, no subbing out for water in the second half. Stock the fridge for tip off with a variety of non alcoholic craft styles. Available at your local grocery store or online at athleticbrewing.com near Beer Fit for all times.
- [18:24]
A
One of the things about that story that is such a trip is the way that it captures. It captures the way that especially with some booze and some weed and some nighttime energy, crazy out of the box things can happen if a person is of a certain kind of adventurous bent. You know, the older I get, the older I get, the more I feel that I need to take care of myself and risk a bit less and have things a little bit planned in advance and negotiate things carefully and all that sort of thing. So this was very funny for me to listen back to because it's just so spontaneous. It's such improv. It literally is about improv. I thought that it was funny. Nephew Seduces uncle is not a particular role play I've ever done before, but I had to laugh at it because I'm infamous for not being able to keep an apartment or a condo unit or whatever, tidy and organized and clean. So I'm like, oh yeah, I guess I could give that one a shot. The way he's talking about giving the apartment the deadbeat uncle treatment by throwing things around. I'm like, oh my God, I wouldn't need to do any treatment, you know? Yeah. And I love a thing in stories that we all love in stories when there's a pattern of repetition. So like the sheer weirdness of two mistaken identities in one story was just a little bit Too crazy. I loved the cut in the story, too, as Jim and I are pulling our clothes back on. You know, I've done that before in stories where, you know, you leave out a huge chunk of action happening with just cutting to the end of it and letting people put it all together in a very funny way. Oh, my God. Onion into the armpits. I did have a fellow once who was into dirty socks, like, smelly socks. And they had to be those thin socks that executives. I swear to God, so many people have a kink for business wear, for, you know, a nice business suit and really nice business shoes and all they want, like, the corporate CEO fantasy. And I don't have that kind of clothing and never want that kind of clothing. And another thing, I have found that people who are into feet are especially particular. You know, very particular. So he wanted me to have, like, I did have Rockport business shoes, so they were good enough. You know, he was a little disappointed that it wasn't a little bit more expensive and. Or more Italian or something like that. And I got these. Those kind of thin, black socks that I never wear. And I realized, oh, he wants them smelly. That's so hard to fake if you're not someone who, like, literally has smelly feet. So what I did was I taped the socks underneath my armpits and kind of ran around the block several times so that I could get the socks good and sweaty. And I'll never forget when he took my shoes off and was worshiping my feet and kind of licking my socks and everything, he kind of winced. And he was like, this sweat doesn't. This doesn't taste like foot sweat. And I was like, all right. Okay. Yeah. It was stagecraft, so, yeah. Oh, my goodness gracious. And I love his, like. What a wonderful thing to be able to say to someone if they ask, what are you into? I'm into helping the other person bring out the creativity to bring their fantasy alive. That's. That's really, really fun. A lot of people get all anxious about how's a particular role play or whatever gonna go. And I really embrace that whole idea that one should not stress out about that kind of thing, but kind of go with the flow, accepting the fact that, of course, sometimes it's super awkward and some are complete disasters. So, anyway, I'm so happy for Timothy that he had all that much fun in that, and he's an inspiration. Kudos to him. So thanks so much to Timothy. He said, we all have stories. We all tell stories. All you need is a mic and an audience and you can do this. Yeah, I agree so completely. Like true storytelling is so inviting and welcoming to newcomers at all times. Timothy is also the author of the book Saving an up and Down Journey. It's an autobiography about the good, bad influences that made him over the top. Obsessed was saving the old Giant dipper roller coaster at Belmont park in San Diego from being torn down. And thanks as always to Justin from so say we all for sharing Timothy's story, bringing it our way. You should check them out, especially if you're out in California. Their website is sosaywealonline.com or their YouTube channel where you can watch performances of all their stories. That's @Sosayweal online. And if you want to help support Risk, consider joining our Patreon. One of our patrons, Ann, sent us this note with their contribution to help keep Risk running. Kevin probably remembers Ann and Chris and how much his story about King Camp mattered to us. Yes, we took a risk and have been loving it. Thanks Kevin. I do indeed remember Anne and Chris. They heard the story Kevin goes to Kink Camp that episode of risk from 2011 I think it was, and they were so inspired that they went to that same Kink Camp and it really like was life changing for them and they were just so sweet and fun to keep up with after that. And it's true, Risk simply could not continue to operate without the financial support of our listeners. So you can join our Patreon and get nearly 300 bonus stories, an ad free episode feed, you can watch our live shows and so much more@patreon.com risk and if you're already a patron, consider moving to a higher tier. Or you can send us a one time donation at PayPal me riskshow. And if you've heard an amazing true first person story told on some other podcast, that's a story where one person is talking about their personal experience and you thought oh Kevin, Allison's got to hear this one. Then send it our way. Just leave a comment about it on the episode page on our website or you can me on social media or email me at kevin@risk-show.com but don't spoil the story for me. Let us know who the storyteller is and what show it's on, but let the rest be a surprise. You can always find us on social media riskshow and as always our website is risk-show.com folks, today's the day. Take a Risk. Here is. Sa.
- [27:41]
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All the melodies in the world and all the love songs, too.
- [27:54]
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I love that the video was called American Booty. You know, I love all those pornos that have fake names of actual movies. By the way, speaking of improv, if you can hear the Bangkok ambulances outside, the way it works here is that if there's an ambulance going down the street, it's. It's going to be going down the street for a long, long time. The traffic here does not move.