I had a lot of fun visiting Alan the Pentecostal Porn Star, his partner Sandy, and their friend Tarik in Norfolk in 1993, so I couldn't wait to return.
By April 1995, they had moved back to Sandy's home town of Washington, DC.
Even better! Dupont Circle, one the best and brightest gay neighborhoods in the world!
Sunday, April 9th.
I arrived on Sunday, April 9th, planning to spend a week and go home the day after Easter. Sandy met me at the airport, explaining that Alan couldn't come -- he was "a little low energy."
I nodded. Alan became HIV positive in 1992. The virus must be catching up with him.
Their apartment was even cooler than I thought -- on R Street at Connecticut in Dupont Circle, within a few blocks of a dozen gay bars, bookstores, retail outlets, and organizations (plus the Embassy of Sierra Leone).
Alan didn't get off the couch to greet me. He was a little thinner, a little tired-looking, but still warm and jovial.
The living room was bare -- no artwork on the walls, no objects d'art on the coffee table, no rugs, just plain furniture.
"We've been taking our time unpacking" Sandy explained. "We don't typically spend a lot of time at home, what with my job and Alan's appointments."
As in medical appointments?
We sat down to a dinner of goat cheese-and-turkey divan, a salad, and fresh strawberries.. Alan just picked at his.
"So what's the plan?" I asked. "Since you're a DC native, Sandy, you can probably give me the insider tour."
"Sure, but I'm working until Saturday," Sandy said. "But don't worry, you can walk to all the tourist places in about fifteen minutes."
I didn't ask whether Alan could come -- obviously not. Shortly after dinner, he excused himself and went to bed, leaving Sandy and me watching tv.
This was turning out to be a depressing visit. Was there some way to turn things around? "Do you mind if I go out cruising some night, and bring someone home?"
"Not at all," Sandy said with a smile. "In fact, we might even watch. Alan has been so down lately, it might cheer him up."
Monday, April 10th
Alan was particularly into twinks, especially Asian and Hispanic. Maybe I could bring in two, and they could go with each other while we watched.
I spent Monday touring the White House and the Smithsonian, then stopped at the Crew Club to work out and cruise. I went down on a couple of guys, but nothing serious.
I met Alan and Sandy for dinner, then excused myself and went alone to the Cobalt, the biggest twink dance club in town. But I was 34 years old, not yet a twink magnet, and after getting extensive Attitude, I went home. No live show for Alan!
The National Gallery, the Capitol, and then to the Crew Club to work out and cruise. I met a very cute Capitol intern named David: round face, sharp features, smooth hard chest, average beneath the belt. A political science major from Boston University.
But after we finished, in the 69 position, he refused my idea of going home to give Alan a live show. "I'm too shy to do it in front of other people,"
Back home, Sandy made dinner -- cheese enchiladas with mango salsa -- and we stayed in to watch tv: Wings, News Radio, Frasier.
No live show for Alan.
Early morning jogging past the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial, then breakfast, the Ford Theater, the Freer Gallery of Asian art -- where I didn't meet anyone -- and back to the Crew Club. I went down on a couple of guys, including a tall, thin British twink named Bertram, but nothing serious.
Alan, Sandy, and I had dinner at the Great Wall, a Szechuan restaurant, and then walked around Dupont Circle for a bit, but Alan quickly got tired, and wanted to go home.
Later I went to the Ace Club, where guys dance in jock straps in front of you. Mostly hard-bitten musclemen, but there was one Asian twink! I kept shoving dollars in his jockstrap to keep him chatting: Hiroki from Japan, mid-twenties, day job as a waiter, hoping to go into restaurant management.
I told him about my live show idea. "I do private parties, sure," he said. "Costs $200. No sex, just dancing. He bent over and hugged and kissed me. "But if I like you, I spend the night for free," he whispered.
A little pricey, but why not? I arranged for Hiroki to arrive tomorrow night, a little after dinner.
Jogging, then Georgetown University to check out their linguistics department, then the National Cathedral, the Freer Gallery again, and home for dinner.
I was overbrimming with excitement -- Alan's surprise live show would start any moment.
The doorbell rang while Sandy was still cooking dinner. Hiroki was early! "Don't get up -- it's for me!" I exclaimed, and rushed to buzz him in.
A knock on the door. I opened it.
To Tarik, the guy Alan and Sandy set me up with in Norfolk two years ago! He hugged me.
"Alan said you were feeling a little lonely, so I pulled some strings and drove up for the weekend. And I brought you a present," he said to Alan. "He's out looking for a parking space. Straight from Honolulu, Hawaii, by way of the Norfolk Naval Base, Ensign Mark Kimura!"
Turns out Tarik and I both had the same idea.
Hiroki, Tarik and Ensign Mark Kimura put on quite an energetic live show that night.
See also: I Visit Alan, Sandy, and Their Boy Toy
In case you were wondering, after the show, Hiroki went home, and Tarik, Mark, and I shared the guest bed.
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