ALLIGATOR TEARS

The coming-of-age of a queer Latinx Floridian, part two.

“I was the person who got expelled from high school, who mopped up lube at the sex club, and some­how I’d stumbled into this alternate universe where I was also the person who lived with his boyfriend in New York (albeit in a fake room), had a book soon-to-be out, and an inbox full of journalists asking me about my ‘process.’” In a follow-up to his much-awarded debut memoir of growing up gay between Florida and Nicaragua, High-Risk Homosexual, Gomez gives a book-length answer to the question of his process. Though his 30-something years may seem few for two memoirs, this time he tells the story largely in terms of work: a meticulously evoked and darkly comic series of jobs in bars, restaurants, retail (readers may find the Flip Flop Shop taking up a permanent, coconut-scented place in their minds), and, briefly, sex work. Through it all, he clung ferociously to the idea that he was a writer. “‘People like you get to make art too!’ I'd hype myself up in the shower.” His fierce love for his mother, a beloved barista at the airport Starbucks, again shines through the pages, and in a section that will mean a lot to aspiring memoirists, he recalls how the joy of his first publication was laced with terror that she would read the book, whose evolution he hid from her. He continues to contend with the legacy of the Pulse nightclub massacre, with homophobia, and with racism, but he also comes to a heartening conclusion: “In fact, it was a privilege to be gay.…It was because of my queerness that I was able to see how the paths set out for me weren’t enough, pushing me to leave home in search of more.”

This portrait of the artist as a young flip-flop salesman will inspire, amuse, and empower its audience.