Me And Mikey - Part I

[CWIS'S NOTE]: This blog entry is the first part of a several part story about my New York road trip. This particular part sets the stage. It does not include anything about diapers until the very end. Read it if you're a regular reader of the blog and plan to read the rest of the entries. If you're just looking for diaper stories and/or verbal porn, keep it moving, you won't find it here...

Road Trip: New York - Summer 2011

Mikey and Me - Part I

If you've been reading this blog for a while, you know that I've diapered more than one hundred people. 

You also know that many of them weren't ABDL. 

A lot of them were straight. 

Some did it for weed dough, something I was willing to pay before I moved to an area with year-round ABDL visitors. Growing up in upstate New York, finding other ABDLs who weren't too scared to meet was next to impossible. I dropped a twanky on diapering a party-liner once, and I was hooked...

You also know that I've diapered at least a dozen of my friends.

Most did it out of curiosity, although I've had them wear for me in exchange for beer and gas money and, once, as partial payment for a car I sold. 

It's important to know that I've never had a friend wear unwillingly; most of my friends, upon finding out that I am into diapers, have so many questions... and, after a while of trying to answer, I just say "you'd have to experience it to understand." And most, thankfully, want to. 

If you've never diapered a friend, you should try it.

For me, there is no better bonding experience than chilling in Pampers. 

After the initial awkwardness, which usually wears off after a little while, it's a tight experience for me. 

And, for most of my friends, knowing that I'm as into it as I am is pretty powerful for them. I've had many after-the-fact discussions about it, and my friends are pretty clear on the fact that they appreciate me including them in on something so personal. 

I will say this: of all of the friends I have diapered, or worn diapers with - some do insist on diapering themselves, after all - I've only had one only wear once. 

I'll tell more stories about these experiences in the future.

For now, let me tell you about July 2011 - and my visit from Mikey.

I have a Florida best friend. He's not into diapers, but does have some pretty distinct AB qualities, and does joke about wearing sometimes. 

I have a New York best friend, who has worn with me many times.

Then I have my internet best friend. He lives in AZ, calls himself my e-bro, and has been there for me for five years plus as much or more than any real-life friend. He's sent me pictures of him, bare-assed, holding pictures of RugRats posters and a "diaper niggie" sign - you've seen that here in a past entry. We have yet to meet.

Mikey is my all-around-the-country-best-friend. 

It's hard to explain, but I'll do my best.

Mikey is 23, and from Pennsylvania. He's a singer - and a very talented one. He is, without a doubt, my favorite singer, and I've followed his career from MySpace to today. 

Mikey's singing has taken him all across the country. 

His songs make up a huge percentage of my iPod music library, and those tracks have made up the playlist of my life since 2005. 

Since before he was 18 Mikey has struggled with drug addiction. He's had some really low points in his life - and some really high points, too, which always seem to revolve around being sober and singing. 

A few years ago Mikey moved to Orlando. He lived here for three months, and we got to spend a lot of time together. We went out to dinner, and I took him grocery shopping - the kid was living with dope fiends who didn't buy food because they had to prioritize and buy drugs. 

At one point I started to realize how desperate Mikey's situation was, and me and my roommate decided to make our third bedroom available for Mikey if he wanted it. Before I could talk to him about it he called me - from Seattle. He'd run out of money, was too ashamed to admit that he was about to be homeless again, and had accepted a free ticket to the Pacific Northwest. 

Over the years Mikey has lived in so many cities and states. 

Many times he's been homeless.

So often I've thought about letting him move back to Orlando. He's asked, and we've talked about it. At one point in the future it may happen. 

Until recently the one thing that stopped me was - you guessed it - my diaper lifestyle.

I didn't want to give that up, and I didn't want to share it with him. This is a kid who respects me a great deal. I wasn't sure how sharing my biggest secret would affect him. I've shared it with dozens upon dozens of people - some voluntarily, others because I was forced to. But I wasn't ready to share it with Mikey for the longest.

And then something happened...

Last summer Mikey hit me up for a loan.

I'd worked a few jobs during the summer, and made a few extra thousand. 

I hadn't told him, but anyone who knows me knows that I do some PR work on the side. 

Mikey hit me up. He was sober again, had a place of his own, and was trying to get back into music.

There was a laptop on sale at Wal-Mart. It was an insanely good deal, and he wanted to borrow the money for it. 

Prior to this, despite his many bouts of homelessness and being poor, he'd never asked me for a penny. Even in Orlando, when he was dead broke, he satisfied himself with me helping him with groceries once... he could have asked for money for gas, tolls, or anything, but didn't. 

So I checked my bank app, agreed, and wired him the money.

Mikey went to Wal-Mart and bought the computer. That night we video chatted on Skype for a few hours. He was excited about getting back into singing, and had lots of plans. 

The next few days were full of Twitter tweets and Skype chats.

The kid even posted a new song.

And then... suddenly... nothing.

He disappeared. 

I was expecting a payment to be dropped into my bank account the next Friday. I'd agreed to loan him some and pay for some, and when his first payment didn't come I was a little worried.

That weekend Mikey hit me up. 

He was getting evicted.

He was suspended from his job - there was some drama between him and a girl who works there and she was trying to get him fired.

Plus, he had pawned his studio and was close to losing it. 

I realized, right away, the signs I'd seen off and on: Mikey had gone back to using drugs.

He swore that he still had the laptop. But I wouldn't see him go on Skype or Twitter again. 

Soon he'd be in jail. 

So disappointed.

I've spent years being my little brother's 'payday advance loan' source. 

He runs out of money before the next payday and I drop $50, $100, $150 in his bank account. He pays be back on payday. It helps him and his kids and I charge no interest. I'm happy to do it - as long as he doesn't screw me. He understands that, if he doesn't pay me back, his next loan doesn't come until he does. 

Mikey got out of jail after a few months. One of the first things that he did was call me. He wanted me to know that he was ashamed of himself, and sorry about essentially stealing from me. He'd been sober when I'd loaned him the money for the laptop, he told me. But once he logged onto Facebook all of his drug connects started connecting with him. Within days he was dabbling. A week later he was fiending. And, soon, he'd lost everything - again - and stolen from me, his parents, his sister, and others.

I let him know the deal. He owed me $200. And, until it was paid, he need not ask me for a single fucking penny. It was the principle of it. Plus, I told him half-jokingly, if we saw each other again I was going to "bust his ass". 

I don't think either of us thought that would happen...

Over the next few months Mikey would flunk out of a rehab program, go back to jail briefly, then move to a few other states before moving back to PA and trying probation.

He was living in a homeless shelter in the city when he called me from someone else's phone. We talked for a while, and he got to the point of the call: I'd talked about putting him on my family talk plan a year before, and he was in danger of losing his probation because he was homeless with no way for his PO to contact him, a violation of the rules. He'd asked his parents to put him on their plan, but they weren't speaking to him. He wondered if me letting him use my extra line would violate the spirit of my pledge not to give him another dollar until he'd paid me back.

I considered it, but realized that the kid was living in a shelter, and in danger of relapsing pretty easily. Did I really want to put a phone on my plan in his hands, or the hands of whatever junkie might steal it while he slept? I didn't. 

On the other hand, I wanted to support his efforts to stay sober and do probation. I was proud of him, because it had become clear to me that he was trying pretty hard. 

I agreed to break my rule. I wired him just enough money to buy a prepaid phone and one month of service. 

Later that day Mikey had a phone on. He began making contact with me regularly, keeping me updated on his job search, his probation, his sobriety, and his music. 

A few weeks later Mikey would get kicked out of the homeless shelter. He was showering when someone tried to steal his phone. He'd managed to save the phone, but both men had gotten banned from the shelter for thirty days. His family wasn't willing to take him in, and he inquired about coming to FL. He was on probation, I reminded him; maybe they could help him find another place to live? He agreed to try. 

He'd just begun working at an auto parts store, staying with different friends on different nights, when he had to work late and missed his ride. He was sleeping on a park bench when a police officer stopped, ran his information, realized he was out after the regional probation curfew, and took him to jail. 

He was in jail as I headed to New York for my summer vacation.

After a week or two he was released from jail. He was released to a halfway house, and was excited - they helped people find better jobs and save money, and Mikey was thinking about stacking some paper and relocating out of PA as soon as he could afford to. He asked about Orlando, and I told him that I'd consider it if he made it through the program. 

I was in New York, on my boat, when I got the text. A week into the program, Mikey had been caught talking to a girl - a rule violation - and they'd kicked him out of the program.

He was living in the woods, laying on a blanket he'd borrowed. The mosquitoes were biting, and he was miserable. He had gone deep into the woods to avoid being picked up by the police again. He knew that he couldn't get caught, because he'd go straight to jail, just like before. He planned to sleep in the woods, and then try to hitchhike to Las Vegas, where another singer lived and had agreed to let him stay for a few months. That kid would be back in Vegas in two weeks.

I mulled that over. I didn't like the idea of him hitchhiking, although I knew he'd probably done it many times before. Plus, I was on vacation for another five weeks, and besides an event I was working that weekend, I had no concrete plans. I'd already told him that, a week before, and as he danced around his plans - hitchhike, sleep in the woods, and other similar bleakness - I realized that Mikey was fishing for my help.

Finally, he asked.

"Yo, what are you doing for the next few weeks?"

I texted back and reminded him that I'd already told him I'd be on vacation through mid-August. 

The phone rang.

"Bro... I know that I owe you, but... is there anything I could do to get you to let me stay with you on your vacation for a few weeks?"

I'd already mentioned the possibility of him coming to visit months before when I booked my flights. He was only a few hours away from my boat, and I figured by then he should have his shit together. In the absence of that, I'd planned to drive to the city next to his for a diaper excursion, and figured I'd fit in a visit with him. Since then, though, he'd been to jail once, homeless twice... it hadn't been a good few months for Mikey.

Still, I told him I'd be willing to consider it. 

"Greyhound is running a special," he told me. "It'll cost you $200."

I was instantly annoyed. 

He'd still not paid me back a buck, and it had been a full year. On top of that, I'd loaned him money to help with him his phone. Plus, my vacation budget was tight - I had taken off six weeks, some unpaid. Now we were talking about a bus ticket?

I told him I wasn't sure if I was ready to pay for his ticket there. I'd somehow been thinking that he had the money for the trip, or would be able to get a ride, or something. I didn't have time to drive into PA and get him - the event was just a few days later. 

"Damn, these mosquitoes are BITING!" he threw in. 

"Trying to guilt trip me to get yourself a trip?" I asked, point blank. I've talked straight up to Mikey since I first met him, and this seemed like a good time to continue that.

And then Mikey poured it on...

"Make you feel guilty?!" he asked me. "Nah, bro.... I should feel guilty. I stole from you! And lied to you! You don't know how ashamed I am... and now I'm homeless, broke, and have nowhere to go, and the fact that you're even still talking to me, much less considering letting me spend time with you on your vacation..."

Sigh...

I thought it over. I had the event that weekend. Did I really want to have Mikey tagging along? Could I even trust that he was sober? I wasn't sure. I asked him some questions, and we talked over my concerns. He was willing to work at the event, and promised to work his ass off, doing whatever was needed. Plus, he had a food stamp card that was good anywhere, so I wouldn't have to feed him. 

Hmmm...

I knew that paying for his bus ticket to New York would probably mean that, somehow, I'd get stuck paying for his bus ticket out of New York. That would be some dough. I'd been thinking about helping one of my AB friends with his ticket to New York to spend a weekend on the boat, and I'd planned to go to Toronto, Albany, and PA - all trips which would cost me gas, tolls, and hotels. I'd hoped to have some diaper fun on this trip, and paying for someone's bus ticket to get him out of homelessness, while altruistic, would ruin that.

I was still considering that, going back and forth between feeling justified and feeling selfish as fuck, when he threw it in...

"And, if you pay for my ticket, I'll wear diapers for you while I'm there."

Uhhhhh....

I asked Mikey to explain how he knew about diapers. 

We hadn't discussed it, and when he had been in Orlando I'd been extra safe to make sure he hadn't found out.

I'd considered telling him the last time he'd asked about moving to Orlando - just to get it out there. But hadn't, yet. I almost had, since I figured that anyone who respected me wouldn't fail to repay me. Only because I know enough about addiction to know that drugs can make people respect nothing did I refrain from saying anything. 

Mikey told me a story about me texting him from a Google Voice number which had included Abysitter in the name. This had been a year or two before, just after he'd moved out of Orlando, and he'd researched until he'd found my blog. He'd read part of it. He knew about diapers and had for a while. 

"I'm totally cool with it, bro," he told me. "I respect you a lot, and I guess I don't totally understand it, but I want to. If it's important to you, it's important to me..."

Slyly, he was winning me over. He was offering to wear in exchange for his ticket... did I have the power to say no to that? 

I had wanted to spend time with Mikey since he'd left Orlando. 

I'd already offered to have him to New York months before.

And now I had five weeks free... and Mikey was homeless. 

It was an offer I decided I couldn't refuse.

Before I agreed, though, I asked him what he was expecting. 

"I'll wear five times?" he offered. "You can do pictures, or whatever." 

"I usually bust," I told him. "Is this gonna be weird for you?"

He promised that it wouldn't, and told me that he knew enough about it from the blog to know what to expect.

"But Chris... please... if you're going to do it, I wanna leave tomorrow," he told me. "This really does suck."

That night I went to Greyhound.com and paid for the ticket. Mikey would leave the next day and, even though I was breaking several of my own rules - including a second (or, really, a third) loan to someone who hadn't repaid the first, and simply paying for someone else's bus ticket - I found myself excited about spending a week or two with my across-the-country-best-friend.

The diapers were really just a plus...

To Be Continued...