Even when you were partnered.
One Friday night in the fall of 1992, Lane went to Shabbat services at Beth Chaim Chadashim, the gay synagogue, and returned gushing over a Cute Young Thing he met at the refreshment table.
Artan, 19 years old, a sophomore at Pepperdine University, still living with his parents.
West Hollywood culture was rather strict about age differentials: anything more than 5 years older or younger caused raised eyebrows and snide remarks. I was 31 at the time, and Lane had just turned 36 -- Artan was 12 and 17 years younger!
"I know they'll make fun at me at temple and the Zone -- but he's so cute, I couldn't resist!' He went on to describe a blond, tan beach boy, with broad shoulders and a hard chest. Plus he was studying English. He wanted to become a writer. Plus he was a science fiction fan. And Jewish. Practically perfect in every way.
"Anyway, in 20 years we'll all be Daddies," Lane continued, planning ahead. "Our date is Wednesday night. And you're invited."
The rest of this story is on Tales of West Hollywood.