
One night late in August 1996, I invited my new friend David and Corbin, the gym rat from Oakland, who I shared with Drake and Zack a few months ago, to dinner at Thai Thai. I intended to fix them up, of course, but I also planned to "share" Corbin's awe-inspiring Mortadella.
He was late. We were about to order without him when he came bursting in, giddy and excited. "I brought someone -- I hope you don't mind. He's out looking for a parking space."
Actually, I did. If Corbin brought a date, we would be divided into two couples, and no Mortadella+ for me. But I said "No, not at all. By the way, this is David. He's new to San Francisco, from redneck Bible Belt Arkansas."
"It's not that bad!" David exclaimed. "Is your date hot?"
"Is he hot!" He sat and took David's arm. "Out parking the car right now is none other than Brad Pitt!"

"How did you..." I asked.
The full story, with nude photos and sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood.