I'm a big bibliophile. When I move, it takes 30 boxes just for my books.
The highlight of visiting a new town is checking out the bookstores.
If I walked into this scene, I would check out the books before making out with the guy.
So during my awful year in Hell-fer-Sartain, Texas, I ran ad in the Montrose Voice, Houston's gay newspaper, looking for a boyfriend.
It was a boyfriend ad -- I was 23 years old, conservative, romantic, not into "tricking" (the 1980s word for hookups). I wanted dating, romance, a relationship. So, to make sure we had a lot in common, I specified more than my sexual tastes: "into bks, tv, f/sf, mus, dts only.
Into books, tv, fantasy/science fiction, bodybuilding. Dates only (they charged by the letter).
Most guys who answered didn't even read the ad -- they just answered all of them, in search of an elusive hookup.
Others misunderstood, thinking I meant "pornographic books, transvestism, and fisting in San Francisco."
Others were "into books," but strongly disapproved of the "mindless, infantile dreck" on the rest of my list.
So I agreed to a date.
The full story, with nude photos and explicit sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood