B4Y Mag Issue #17 May 2019 May 2019 Issue #17 B4Y | Page 91

First time for everything Right off the bat, Dougie goes, “Listen, are you gay?” I told him I wasn’t but he didn’t seem convinced: “The only reason I ask is because we have a lot of guys that mess around with clients on the side, and I just want to know you’re being up- front with me.” He goes, “A lot of guys claim they’re not gay but then a month later they’re making out with the clients, the staff, the delivery man, everyone. I just want to know where you stand. I don’t want the drama.” Then, he adds, “If you’re not gay, I’ll make sure the other guys don’t get too handsy with you. But I don’t want to go through the trouble of announcing it only to catch you fucking around the next day.” As it turned out, I was the only straight dancer there. They said there had been one guy before me who allegedly was too, but then like three months later he decided he was gay after all. My shift was on a Tuesday, so it was pretty dead. There was one guy who showed me the ropes. He was slim, white, collegiate. I was pretty bummed to find out I wouldn’t be working with him anymore because all the twinks performed on “College Night.” He asked me, “Are you a dancer or a wiggler, hon- ey?” “Oh, I’m a dancer,” I said, lying through my teeth. The way it worked, he explained, is you dance for 15 to 30 minutes, then take a 15-minute break to give others a chance to make money. Because it was my first time, they told me to keep it short. So, I changed into my Gay Boy briefs and made my way to the stage. Like I said, I was a little buffer than the other guys, and considerably hairier. Most of the guys wore sandals or flip-flops. Some were barefoot. I was wearing a pair of Timberland boots. Plus, these underwear, which were like blue and white sailor shorts. Apparently, it was “Disco Night.” The clientele was on the older side, real West Vil- lage types who weren’t afraid to get drunk or rowdy. The minute I heard the sound coming out of the speakers, I was like “Alright... ” I grew up on music from the six- ties and seventies, like all the shit my mom listened to. So I was really digging the vibes. Literally, the second I got onstage, someone stuffed a $50 bill into the waistband of my briefs. A couple of days earlier, I had done this gag video with some of my fami- ly members for my cousin’s birthday. It involved shaving the letter “O” into my chest hair. The customers went wild for that. I had guys coming up to me all night. 91