Jesus Marie - I can’t believe he asked me that.

"If you want to see my dick, you need to pay for a One on One."

"Papuppy here. Hi sweetie - how’s Robert tonight?"

"Hi Papuppy. Cool, you know. Getting near the end of my shift."

"You like my smile?"

Cumdoggy says, "My, my - let’s see that smile"

That’s my Max. Love that smile

Papuppy says, "Robert - show us your ass!"

Bonerman says, "Yep! Show it to us now!"

"Hi bonerman - you know the rules."

Monitor 1 says, "Guys! Press the One on One button and Robert will be all yours."

Cumdoggy says, "Max more than the smile. By the way, I’ll be in New York this weekend."

"So, are you saying something?"

Cumdoggy says, "Hey Bonerman, how are you this evening."

"Would be better if you were here, Cumdoggy"

SweetCA says, "Hey Anyone here from California!"

Creampuff say, "I am"

Where?

Cupertino

Cool! C U

"To Bonerman - how old are you?"

Old enough

"No fair! You can see me."

Cumdoggy says, "Show us more -"

"Teasers. How old Bonerman?"

(Bonerman signs-off"

Shit! He signed off. I scared him away.

(to Sprakie) Never ask their age Sprakie, it scares ‘em away.

Fuck! I could have told you that - you dumb ass newbie!

I’ll come over there and kick your ass.

What’s Guy doing - Awfully quiet over there.

I hear heavy breathing - he’s earning it, girl - doing the jack-off supreme!

Go for it Guy!

(in ecstasy) Shut your holes! You’ll make me blow this big spender’s dime. He’s been on for 25 minutes - nearing the $200 mark - and I want him again and again . . .

(laughing) and again. . .

(typing) "to Papuppy - Are you still there?"

Here, dear. Are you queer or what?

"I’m a Kinzie 6."

What the fuck’s that!

"Men only. I thought you knew. What do you do?"

I do them all.

Cumdoggy says, "Max, how long do I have to wait here?"

"tell ‘em Monitor 1"

Monitor 1 says, "Just press the button for a One on One and Max will be yours."

(with a french accent) Asspounder say, bon soir Robert.

Good evening Asspounder.

Missed anything?

To Asspounder from Papuppy. "You missed an exciting show from Robert. He’s the best"

"Thank you, Papuppy"

Cumdoggy says, "Max, what’s so funny?"

"Just felt like a laugh, Cumdoggy."

That’s it, Max. Wonderful. Keep going.

He’s going for it. Going . . . Going . . . he’s in!

(typing) "Hey Cumdoggy - we can fuck around with this keyboard or for an extra charge - dial me at 1-876-manlove."

Yes sir!

Asspounder says, "Robert, how long have you been In this room?"

"About to sign-off, Asspounder. Phillip will be strutting his stuff soon."

Oo la la!

So Cumdoggy, do you have a name?

I do - but let’s not waste time with that crap. Start taking it off.

Oooo. A real brute. What do you want to see?

Do you have toys?

Papuppy says, "Robert, how much longer?"

Time’s up, Papuppy.

(typing) "See you all tomorrow."

What time?

Check the fucking schedule asshole!

(typing) "I think I’m back at the same time sweetie. Have pleasant dreams."

(stands) And don’t swallow any wooden dicks!

Oh Cumdoggy! Wouldn’t you like to be here in my . . . (moans)

Wow Guy, he’s really into it tonight!

Hi Phil. Want some M&M’s.

Well hon, it’s about time you got your ass out of bed. Was he good-looking - but more important, did he pay well?

Too much lard here? A little more Gold’s Gym could be in order. Too many hours watching Millionaire and wishin’ in one hand and jerking off in the other.

It was a busy afternoon.

Oh, my break’s up.

Guy, you’re always eating and always tempting others. Get thee behind me Satan! I hope those aren’t Max/ M&M’s.

(laughs) You’re so funny Sprakie.

(heavy heated) Oh that’s the way you like it Cumdoggy.

All these doggies. The internet’s filled to the brime with dogs. I have a papuppy, and didn’t you have a schlogdoggie or fido or something . .

Hungbastard.

What does that have to do with dogs?

A bastard hound.

Fuck you. I’m too tired for this! Come, Tell Sprakie what or who you did today. Come, ‘fess up.

Actually, I took a long steamy bath and curled up with a book.

A book! Listen to Lady Chatterley here! Back copies of Advocate Personals or just some hard rock candy stuff? A book. The last time I picked up a book it was to call a florist, Jesus Marie - and that was to decorate for a doctor.

What ever happened to Doctor Dick of Death!

Please - I still can’t sit down. It was Doctor Brian McMoldau of the Gustave McMoldaus, East Hampton’s finest. Well . . I thought I told you this, sis - He was hung like a you-know-what, and rich as Margaret Truman - but he had one flaw - a small flaw. (pause) He was as ugly as a Goddamn monkey’s ass - and although he made it worth my while, there definitely was no call for me to be the permenant houseboy. So, when the Doctor was in, my eyes were shut else I’d start laughing - and giggles would mean no supper - no little spending money at Saks.

(laughing) Did you meet on-line?

Never date them (points to the chat room) Be polite, get them in the One on One - make fucking penpals out of them and they’ll come back and spend hundreds. Take your commission and go.

Sprakie, they’re not all that bad.

I forgot - you’ve made the rounds there. Well, tell me. Have you found the sugar daddy of your dreams yet?

No. But some of them are interested in more than a one nighter.

That’s the problem. Some of them are freaky with the love and romance. And . . . Oh, I know who you’re tinking of. No, no - that one you keep telling me about was not on tonight.

Tdye.

Tdye - what kinda screen name is that. I can live with Fuckmonger and Asspounder, but Tdye. What’s that Tie Dye - like they did to pants before we were born.

I believe it’s Thomas - and he’s a writer - and he’s very gentle in One on One . . .

Jesus Marie, you’re pathetique. Listen to me, I love you like my best set of luggage. Don’t fall for that line. He’s probably an old Troll. Or he’s a 10 year old kid using his father’s sign-on - or worse yet, he’s a straight serial killer.

(laughing) I doubt that. You’re just jealous because your tricks turn out to be losers.

They’re all losers - If you spend money for sex . . . come on hon!

Yeah, but look what they get!

(poses) Remember, I’m Saks - you’re J C Penney’s. But really - I worry about your little romantic notions. It’s ok to make the cash - I taught you well. But when you decide these dudes are worthy of more than that, I caution you! Remember what happened to Jimmy . . .

Jimmy was into heavy drugs, man. And I think he was out of control. He’d go with anything that walked.

Or crawled. He’d fuck a knot hole and worry about payment later!

Dumb-ass Boy’s making the bucks tonight. He doesn’t need any words of wisdom from Mama here. I think the dumber they are the more natural common sense comes to them in these matters. But, Jimmy . . .

It’s time for work.

Be home on time. And . . . call me later.

You listening? I don’t want to pick up a paper and see you sprawled across some Goddamn fence in the middle of Wyoming. I love your sorry ass - and worry about these romantic notions you get.

Call me later - promise me.

Hey!

I promise.

And give my regards to all those boyz out there in the dark - Sprakie’s ready for his close up Mr. Bill Gates

"I’m back boyz and available!"

Funpud says "Max that was hot."

"Thanks, Funpud! Like what you see in the small box, come have me full screen."

How’s your cold?

"Oh you sweetie. You remembered. Took lots of crap and its gone. "

Prissyqueen says, "Back in the saddle hon!"

"U bet, Prissyqueen! Riding those horses."

Monitor 1 says, "Max can be yours by pressing the One on One button. He’ll do anything you want."

Asspounder says, bon soir Phillippe!

"Hi Asspounder. How’s it going?"

Fine here in Montreal - cold. Come up and warm me up. How’s your French.

French is fine! And so’s my Greek!

Prissyqueen says, "Max, my lad! How long’s your shift."

"Prissyqueen, I don’t know - how long’s yours?"

(laughs) Long, longing and ready. You bad boy.

Asspounder says, "You look so luscious tonite, mon Phillippe!"

"Evening, Tdye."

Tdye says "Ah sweetheart. How are you tonite?"

Well Phillippe, are you ignoring me? You look so luscious tonite.

"Sorry, Asspounder - thanks for the compliment!"

Tdye says "Phil, Can we talk?"

Talk. O yes, I want to talk to you. And I’d better do it fast, ‘cause Asspounder’s horny tonight and he’ll beat all to the "button."

"Tdye - we could talk."

Private chat.

"We could, but . . ."

I know where the "button" is. I’m coming.

O yes. O yes. Press it. Press it. He’s in!

"Tom. You’re in."

Tdye says "Good. I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed our little session 2 days ago. "

"Well, you better start commanding me now - as this is costing you a fortune."

No discounts?

"Tempting."

Well I just want to talk.

"Talk or not, I’m getting naked for you."

"Now, I want you to call me - but use the special number"

Hello - Tom

Well, well there’s a voice of an angel in that sweetheart’s body.

I’m blushing - and you can see it. Wait.

Since we’re just talking, I went on a break - You can still see me, but all the others can’t. And the meter’s not running.

Can you do that? Won’t you get in trouble? I don’t want to cause you any problem.

No problem. I’m their star attraction. Losing me would be like closing the place down.

I am greatly honored.

Well, not so fast. I can’t be on here like this forever. So, I have a question for you?

Shoot!

We’ve been chatting for 2 weeks. And you’ve seen every part of me.

Mmmm, and how.

And you seem to like what you see.

I’m here, am I not?

Am I not? (laughs) I love the way you speak professor. You know I love to read good stuff.

So you’ve said.

I mean like, Moby Dick

How appropriate.

Bitch! I’m serious. I’ve seen the movie and thought it really . . . really . .

Wet?

Shut up! Compelling. But then I picked up the book. I said to myself, who the fuck could get through this big motherfucker . . .

(laughs)

What are you laughing at? You’re not one of these snobby assholes who find me amusing because I am exploring a brave new world!

Brave New World? No, I just have never heard Moby Dick referred to as a Mother-fucker.

Oh! Well, that’s OK. I started reading it and it’s transformed me. The words are like little paintings - I can’t tell you - much better than the movie.

You know, Melville was gay?

You know, the mother-fucker who wrote the book.

Are you making fun of me?

Not fun of you - enjoying the exhuberance of your youth. It’s infectious.

That’s nice.

Have you ever seen a whale?

Like in the flesh?

Like in the aquarium?

In books only. Have you?

Yes, at sea.

That’s wonderful. I would love that. Where can you do that?

At Sea!

Actually at Provincetown - they have whale-watching excursions.

At P’Town. I’ve never been. Love to go. They say the boyz are hot there and it’s wonderfully gay.

And now another reason! PLUS they have some great new plays performed there. Have you been to the theatre?

Drags and such.

Ah! I would like to be with you when you see your first live theatrical performance.

You would?

I would! But you know, you never asked me the question you wanted to ask me.

Oh yeah. How old are you?

That’s not that old

Who said it was?

No one.

I mean, I have friends who are still alive at 54.

Oh I didn’t mean . . .

Don’t worry - I know you’re a tad younger than me.

A Tad. When you were my age, I wasn’t even born yet!

Now it’s my turn.

Bitch!

And are you like old and wrinkly - walk with a gimp and have a hunchback!

Actually, I’m in a wheel chair - and lost a testicle in Vietnam.

I’m sorry.

(laughs)

You bitch! How could I know?

Let’s not make assumptions. If you want to know what I look like - I could email you a picture - a jpeg . . . .or . . . .

That would be nice - maybe a naked one ---- but we could like . . .

Like what?

Meet somewhere

That would be fine with me. You won’t mind my seeing-eye dog?

Cut it out! I need to get back to work. So, do you know where The Imperial Coffee Mug is in the East Village?

Know it well. What day?

Tonight?

Great!

I’m off at 9.

Come as you are. (laughs) I’ll see you then.

See you then

Yes, my sweetheart.

Bye

Bye

Yes! Yes, yes, yes!!

Where’s my M&M’s. Who fucking stole my funcking M&M’s?

Did you eat my friggin’ M&M’s?

Guy! Did you eat my fucking M&Ms?

"My, my somebody’s grumpy."

(on the phone) Hi - Sprakie! Guess what? What are you doin’ now? I’ll meet you at . . .

(black out)

Now, now - here’s a question. Which one? I told him so!

Look, miss Romantic Notion - I bet your lover troll is that shabby guy with the snot hanging out of his nose. Distance is his friend.

Not so loud. But what if it’s the other one?

Too young. You said on the phone he that was 48. This one’s about 40 --- maybe 41, even in dog years. No, you’d best retreat before trolly-guy spies you. Remember that he knows what you look like.

Shit!

Too late!

Phillip! Over here.

(relieved) Tom?

Ishmael?

Ishmael?

Shut-up Sprakie. It’s from a book I’m reading.

Well, pardon my breath.

Tom - this is my sister, Sprakie.

Robert? from manluv.com?

Just call me the chaperone. You see, Phil, he’s seen all of us from top to . . . .

. . . so, I’m glad to see its you. I mean . . .

You thought that that older gent was . . . (laughs).

Well, I take it you’re surprised that I’m not on my last legs.

Told you he’d have a wooden leg.

shhhh

(to Tom) Don’t pay attention to him.

I never do!

Ouch!! That’s a low blow. I may turn out to like you after all.

Coffee?

Never touch the stuff.

Then why . . .

Welcome to hustle central Mr. Dye.

They call it that, but that’s not necessarily so in all cases.

Well, maybe something sweet? A turnover?

Well, Ishmael, he’s obviously passed the looks test - now find out whether he has any marketable securities?

Actually, Sprakie, when he gets back, you’re gonna tell me that you have a hot date and need to leave right away.

Bitch. You won’t even let me come along and watch. I can make change you know. Who’s gonna work the credit card machine? Who’s gonna operate the winch?

A hot date - you have - hear me - you have a hot, hot date.

(pouting) Well, little Ishie - if you insist. What’s this hot date I have look like? Well, whatever my date is --- will be --- he’ll be age appropriate.

Why are you pestering me about his age? It isn’t the first time I’ve seen an older man.

This one’s much older - If I didn’t know better, I’d say he cruised Miss Nancy’s Schoolyard after work to get you.

Shhh. He’s coming back.

What none for me?

(shrugs) Robert - why do they call you Sprakie?

My name is Robert Sprague (cocks his nose). My Dahddy used to call me the little sprig. That became Little Spraguey - and that became a little pukey - so I changed it to Sprakie and it stuck.

Be careful, Little Ishmael can stick too.

I was wondering, Tom . . .

Oh! Oh! I forgot. I met this wonderful guy last night and I promised to give him a blow job tonight - and if I don’t go he’ll start without me. Pardon my sudden flight of forgetfulness. You don’t mind if I slip out gracefully.

Then onward I go. Gee I hope this cutie I met last night is not married - but what’s that to me. If you can’t make a new family - break one up!

(exits with flare)

Is he . . .

Always.

I mean, is he always with you?

He’s with me a lot. But we’re just good friends. He helped me when I first came out - and he’s guided me to better things.

So, you’re not together . . .

Me and Sprakie?

He looked protective.

He’s always protecting me. Don’t give it another thought.

Mmm, this is good, thanks.

Don’t mention it.

You know what I like most about you?

My eyes.

How did you know?

Everyone likes my eyes. They say they are compelling.

They’re more than compelling. They are non pariel.

Without comparison.

That’s sweet. And do you know what I like about you?

My business?

(hurt) How can you say that?

Well, you have been very honest with me. You have clearly stated over the last two weeks that we are a business arrangement. Only tonight the meter was shut down . . .

Because, every once and a while I like to stop the entertainment crap and touch something real. What I like most about you is that you haven’t asked THE question?

What question?

Well, you can’t imagine the bastards I put up with in this business. But since the Internet’s been around, it is a helluva lot safer than before. I’ve had some tight spots with some weird people.

I bet.

But when I bump into someone who’s gentle and seamingly kind - they ultimately ask me the Question? Why do I need to sell myself?

How judgmental!

Exactly. I like what I do. I can do dozens of other things. I like to show my body off to others and let them pay for the pleasure. I have fun. But you haven’t asked that question yet,

unless you were about to?

"What is a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Stop. (laughs)

Then, why is a man like me with a girl like you?

(gives him a hug) Exactly.

There’s something else I like about you.

I bet.

Well, I like that - but I also like the way you respond to me and others on-line. You’re kind and sweet, but honest and intelligent.

Intelligent?

Yes, intelligent. You don’t take yourself so seriously as to ignore the needs of other people. When we did our first One on One - I told you I was a One on One virgin - and you guided me step by step.

Well, we are taught to slow you all down . . .

Taught?

Well, manluv.com tells us to slow One on One’s down so you’ll run out of time. Then you’ll be hot and bothered and be willing to extend the time and it costs more per minute then. There’s a different rate when you’re extending. And my commission’s better if I get someone to run out of time and extend.

That’s highway robbery. You’re bursting my little fantasy.

Does this feel like a fantasy to you?

I don’t know. You can touch fantasies you know. Remember, when you read books, you go into a virtual world. But the whole time you’re holding something in your hand.

Well, all I know, is our One on One’s have been gentle and respectful.

Yes, you danced like Salome around my head.

Lost your head, eh?

Intelligent boy.

Boy with candy.

Tee - here you are?

Flo (to Phil) it’s my agent. Not good timing, but still.

(to Flo) Come join us. Phil this is Flo, my agent . . .

Phil, glad to meet you (shakes hand).

(to Tom) I’m glad I caught up to you. We had an offer for Bright Darkness - so I’ll need you to look over a contract (takes contract out) (Tom stops him)

Ah - actually Flo, Phil is my date. You know, this can wait until morning.

Ah! Sorry.

You look familiar - have we ever met?

I don’t think so.

(to Phil) Tom is a family member.

Gay as a goose.

In fact, he’s the one who popped me out of the closet long before my career started as a writer.

So you’re sisters. Like me and Sprakie?

Something like that.

I like that. Sisters. So, are you guys going out dancing? I won’t be in the way.

Actually, Flo, we’re going to go back to my place . . .

Great. And we can pick up some Chinese food. Do you like Chinese?

Actually, we’re going to go home and discuss Moby Dick.

What? That old fish tail.

He isn’t a fish - he’s a mammal.

Hey kid, I read the book in High School. So, Tom you’re saying . . .

(to Phil) Excuse us a minute.

Flo, give me a break. I just met him and I like him and I think he likes me.

Give ME a break! You’re twice his age. Is he jail bait?

Please Flo, don’t get out of line. I want to get to know him. And if you come with us, you’ll just rattle on about the army and the stories of us in the old days - and this is not about us in the old days. It’s about me in the now days. So, please.

Tom, Tom, Tom.

You sound like a friggin’ bongo. Just. . I’ll see you tomorrow.

I just hate to see you get hurt.

Bye and wave bye-bye to Phil.

I hope I didn’t cause any trouble. You know you asked about Sprakie and me - but I never asked you if you were together with someone.

Flo and Me? No, I don’t see that.

Somehow, I think he may.

No, you have to know Flo - he’s like my oldest piece of furniture. He’ll be OK.

Well, what’s next?

Shall we go to your place and discuss Dick?

You mean Melville’s Dick? I mean Moby's. . .

I like your smile.

You make me laugh. You make my heart feel . . .

Young.

Well, young - what’s age anyway? Isn’t that just another number somewhere out there that we’re supposed to live up to?

Just a number - no other meaning.

Quite clinical. Even when we feel our age, and it makes us restless, we still need to . . . need to . . .

"Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzily November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can."

Ishmael?

Loomings?

But Tee, can I call you Tee?

The time for sadness is over. Come swim in the sea with me. Take a deep breath - what do you smell?

Coffee.

No do it again! (he does) Smell the salt air.

Yes, yes - now I do.

Guide me to it. Let me be a child again, guided to the senses I never felt when I was truly young. Guide me to the warmth of May days that I thought were long dead on the treeless plains. Show me the heart of youth through your beacon eyes. Take me to the edges of the springtime sea.

That is beautiful.

I am a writer you know, sweetheart.

(sighs) Sweetheart. Let’s go find the book. My beacon eyes are dying to see your hairy ass.

Lead on.

I take MasterCard, Visa, and American Express.

You make me laugh. Besides, I always pay cash.

"We had lain thus in bed, chatting and napping at short intervals. The more so, I say, because truly to enjoy bodily wamth, some part of you must be cold, for there is no quality in this world that is not what it is merely by contrast. So, I kindled the shavings, kissed his nose; and that done, we undressed and went to bed, at peace with our own consciences and all the world. "

Dick again?

"How it is I know not; but there is no place like a bed for confidential disclosures between friends. Man and wife, they say, there open the very bottom of their souls to each other; and some old couples often lie and chat over old times till nearly morning. Thus, then, in our hearts’ honeymoon, lay I and Queequeg - a cosy, loving pair."

Melville was Gay!

He was - but I’m not so sure about Queequeg and Ismael. Actually, it’s passages like this that well up from the golden soul of the sensually discriminating palatte that glow universally to all that hear it. Gay or not - it is true.

Disclosure of the soul?

Chatter in bed.

Better than sex?

Not better. Different - and with it - the full blend.

Wow. The words flow out of you like . . . like . . .

Diarhea

Aww. No, silk.

Silk - as in silk stockings or silk and satin sheets.

Oh that feels good.

Ah, but remember - for it to feel good and warm, some part of you must be cold.

I’m afraid a good deal of me is cold.

I don’t believe it. And you think me warm? Actually, I was as shy and diffident as they come. I knew I was different - but was very afraid to face it all.

How did you come "out?"

I was in the Army.

When?

1970-72 - in Germany.

I was stationed in a little town in Bavaria - but a big military installation. I was a clerk-typist and also was responsible for driving the commander’s jeep. Sort of a Radar O’Reilly. One duty of the Battery Clerk was to show training films - so, I was sent off to "Projectionists" School. Now, this school was in a city near Nuremburg - a place called Fuerth. I was sent alone - and as it turned out there was only one other guy in the class.

Now the barracks where I stayed was called O’Darby Kaserne. I sounds Irish, but it was quite German and was built next to the Military Prison. The barracks were virtually empty - as they were, what they call "transient" barracks - only used for temporaries at the Kaserne - which the projectionist school students - the two of us - were. It was very run down - pretty scary in fact, especially to a shy guy like me.

The prison was the most eery thing about this place. Morning, noon and night they drilled those prisoners.

What a racket? They don’t drill us like that in Grafenwohr

You’re stationed in Grafenwohr?

Afriad so.

I was there for 2 weeks. This noise here is nothing compared to the tanks firing all day long at Grafenwohr.

Shakes the windows. But you get used to it.

You can get used to anything. And, that next door is a Prison . . .

Prison? Well I’ll be damned.

How long have you be here?

Four days. I’m Florian Cooper.

Tom Dye. Has it been this quiet?

Quiet? You just complained about the noise. You mean empty. Yep. And I think we’re it.

Projectionist’s School?

We are it. So, relax - enjoy the quiet - or noise - and get ready for a week of spockets and film repair - old newsreels and other shit.

Sounds boring.

Well, have you been to Nuremburg?

No.

Well, stow your stuff - wash up. Have you eaten yet?

Well, there’s good food - and let’s hit the town.

So, that’s what we did. And Nuremburg - well, they pronounced it Nuernburg - was a short mini-Bahn ride away (that’s a trolley). And I was amazed at the place. It was completely surrounded by an ancient wall - with torrets and towers - and old churches and cobbled stone streets. I never saw anything like it in my life. Years later I found out the whole place was bombed to shit during the war and the Kraft Cheese company rebuilt the city - so it wasn’t really that old at all - sort of like a living Disneyland - but, I was young, foolish and in love with novelty.

We ate in a Bulgarian restaurant, complete with old saddles hanging from the wall - and then hit a few bars and a risque movie. While in the movie, I noticed my new friend Florian, that is Flo, had a bit more to drink than he should - and his hand was straying in the movie - his leg was rubbing against mine. Now, I took it to be the beer - but still I found it quite enjoyable. So, when we returned, I helped him undress - and got him into bed.

Flo - perhaps you should sleep on the bottom.

Didja fold up my grood pants --- in case I puke?

Don’t worry.

I had a grood time - a really, really grood time - anight and I. In fact, I feel like a king, a regular king. I feel like the fucking Lawrence of Arabia.

Literally. Well, Lawrence - let’s get your ass to bed. (laughs)

Where’s my camel? Where’s my fucking camel.

Shut up out there!

Not so loud, they’ll shot you.

Shot me? Me? As long as they leave my fucking camel alive.

To bed with you. Now. I’ll put your camel to bed. Trust me (laughs)

And the next morning, except for his headache, he didn’t remember a thing. But I did. I remembered that kiss. It made me feel alive and nothing any woman ever gave me could compare. I had known that I was different by let’s say eight or nine - I peeked at all my friend’s dicks whenever I got a chance. I scrounged for all those Muscle Boy books, those meagre lot of flesh we had in those days to inspire the sexual imagination. I even went to the Gay section of Riis Park once with a randy High School friend - whose gaydar was working - but I didn’t bite. I stayed in that closet. But Flo’s drunken kiss woke up the wonder in me. But that next morning, he didn’t even mention it.

So, we went to this boring Projectionist’s class - and then on the last day I was sitting on my bunk writing . . .

Hey T, you’re always writing. Letters?

Sometimes.

Now?

You don’t want to know.

No, I do!

You’ll laugh

I won’t.

I’m writing a poem.

Dick-head. Let’s hear it.

No I don’t . .

Please. I won’t laugh.

"They march and drill all day

Like fire kept at bay

And left to smoulder in the sun

To quench their sense of burning.

I hear them and am filled with yearning

Not to be inside them

But to have them inside me

To drill and march on my prison soul

To smoulder in my sun.

Locked away in a dark place,

A fetid place that allows no growth

Or truth be told

This high wall holds the soul from flowing

Through to the ebbing sea.

Not the prisoned marchers drilled.

But, the soul that speaks of me."

(Flo jumps off the bed - hugs Tom, who resists at first, then hugs back. This leads to kisses. Flo pulls Tom to the bottom bunk and they start disrobing as the lights dim. As they dim to a black-out - the prison sounds start once more.)

Never was sex so wonderful. And Flo and I stayed together through the night. We met every other weekend in Munich, got a hotel and fucked like bunnies. So, I guess I was out to at least one person. But if we were ever caught, we would have been put in that Prison. Not too much difference today in the military - if you ask me, I’ll tell. But it was a scary, secret time.

And I wrote and wrote. I got a job with Newsweek. Flo got a job with Dun & Bradstreet; and we moved in together in a walk up in Brooklyn.

So you were together?

Never really.

That’s bullshit. He brought you out of the closet. You scurried all over Germany to hide the salami, you get dicharged, live together and . . .

Not sleep together. In fact, I became interested in other men - and he became interested in pedalling my short stories, poetry and novels, So, I let him become my agent. Soon, I moved to New York and so did he -- but to a separate apartment. So, we see each other every day - we vacation together at P’Town every year. But, sometimes Flo can be very smothering in his attention to my affairs.

Did you love him?

I love all my friends.

That’s a pat answer, Mr. Give-me- a-Prison-Guard.

Where did you pick expression up? Robert?

Now, when it comes to friends - Robert has been true and blue. And he’s always Sprakie to me.

Have you ever read Dicken?

No.

Well, friends are not always what they seem. Artful Dodgers are on every street corner waiting for poor orphaned waifs.

Don’t bad-mouth Sprakie.

Sorry.

Sprakie was there when I needed him. You know, you came out gently and naturally. It wasn’t that easy for me. I mean I was out fooling around - and I knew other guys - I mean friends. But, I never told my family. But when I did!

(inside the house) You faggot! You fucking dirty little bastard faggot. I don’t ever wanna see your sissy ass here again!

Take your pansy ass out of here! Do you hear me!

Dad!

Don’t you Dad me! You’re dead to me! Do you hear me? Dead to me! (to Phils’ mother) No I won’t calm down. He’s your son too.

Mom - let me back in.

She ain’t gonna help you. She’s out of your life too, you hurtful little son of a bitch! I don’t care what happen to you.

Mom

Mom let me back in. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

Mildred, if you let that asshole back in this place - I swear you’ll go next. Don’t try me! He’s dead to us! Dead to us!

Oh, Mom. I’m sorry. What can I do? I can’t help how I feel. I can’t help it. I’m not like you. I’m not like the rest of you. Where will I go?

Mom it’s raining! It’s raining! It’s raining. Look at me Mom and Dad. I’m adrift here - nothing - no shore or anchor. What am I to do?

I have nothing to hold on to. Nothing. Look at my clothes. They’re all wet. I have nothing to feed me - to feed my soul. Mom . . . Dad . . . My heart - my heart is breaking.

No mend. No mend. My heart is breaking and there’s no mend!

I’m coming. Jesus Marie, who’s there?

Robert, it’s Phillip Haxie.

Who the fuck is Phillip Haxie?

(remembers) Oh

Oooh. Nice.

Jesus Marie, you’re all wet.

Do you remember me?

I remember your dick. What the fucks the matter? You look like shit.

Robert…

Call me Sprakie. I hate that other name.

Sprakie, my parents threw me out.

Out. You mean they didn’t know?

No. It was terrible.

Oh, parents always know. They’re in permenent denial, until they hear the words - "I’m Gay" (sings it). Even the liberals one are in shock, like they didn’t know. You know, "Build the new highway through anyone else’s backyard but mine."

No Sprakie. They were violent. At least my Dad was. My mother cried. My Dad called me horrible things. (cries)

Calm down. You’ve been called those things before. I know it sounds awful when a parent says those things - but remember . . . oh shit. I’m on the clock.

On the clock?

I have something baking in the next room.

Baking?

Baking. Panting. Sighing for my ass. A trick!

Oh, I’ll go.

No, you sit hear, dearie. I’ll get rid of him.

(off stage) I hate to tell you this guy, but you’re the worst lay I’ve ever had - and here’s a refund. Get dressed.

You're. . . ah, I mean . . .

A hustler. Not a prostitute. I don’t go out for pizza - I have it delivered. Now, enough about me. What do you do for a living?

I live at home.

Not any more you don’t.

Mmmm. But you know, with that baby face and body you certainly could get work. Dancing even.

I don’t know whether I could just do anyone.

I think you could.

I don’t think that’s who I am.

Listen, Lamikins - no matter how much you are, you can always be more.

You’re so sweet. Where did I pick you up?

At the Monster.

And we came here? Oh, yes we must have - how else would you know to come here? But, why did you come knocking at my door?

Well, I liked you. And most other men were kind of rough and hard on me. You were gentle and I knew . . .

. . .I was a soft touch and had an apartment. Smart thinking. I like that.

Well, it’s raining - but when it stops I can go.

No, no --- get out of those wet things. Let me help.

Oh yes.

For every boy, there’s a toy. In the scheme of things, you can either hunt for the one - or find them by the dozen, fast and disposable. But while they pass through, you make them pay.

And me. Will I need to pay?

Well nothing’s free. But I think you’ll be a keeper. You can stay here until you find something better. And since you already know the way to my bedroom, I’ll meet you there after you wash away the mud.

So, Sprakie is a good friend. Four years ago he helped me out of a bad scrape. I live with him still.

You live with him still - and you’ve gone to bed with him, and you deny that you two are together.

I slept with him that night - and we actually slept. By the time I got to his room, he was snoring. We hug and are affectionate - but as sisters. And I pay him rent for my little cubby.

And your parents?

I pass there once and a while, but I haven’t spoken to my father since that night. I sometimes see my mother. I wait across the street and see her come out. I know she sees me. But I am afraid to speak - I don’t want him to harm her.

Maybe some day?

I’m dead to them. I’m invisible.

You my dear glisten in the morning sun - and that which glistens is not invisible.

I don’t know whether you’re just a sweet man or a sweet talker.

Probably a little bit of both. I like you a lot.

Sex was good, eh?

Sex was magnifique - but, it scared me.

Scared you? I know you’re not a virgin, especially as you told me . . .and

Especially at my age!

Back to that.

That’s what scared me. I am much older than you. And yet, you make me feel young, and I was never young even when I was young. But, when we get physical, I am reminded of my saging belly, my shrivelled balls and that I can’t go a long time like . . .

Like who? Don’t believe all you hear or read. Too many porn flicks! They tell you every dudes got a big schlong, and can go for 30 minutes and then again and again. Guess what? I’m still lookin’ for Mr. 30 minutes.

So, you’re saying I’m ok.

I’m saying, you’re great - and you have such passion and experience.

I thought you were the one with all the experience.

No, I’m the one who’s had the variety pack.

Well, I guess age makes us children once again. That would make you older than me . . .

In dog years maybe. Listen, I have no problem with your age, Mr. Not Quite 30 Minutes. In fact, your age makes you more . . .

Settled?

Easy on my soul - and on my bones - and on my lips. (they kiss)

Why go home to the Sprakmeister?

Not tonight. I’m here tonight.

How about if you came here tomorrow.

and the next day

and the . .