Jerzy Has 24 Hours to Pick Up a Twink

West Hollywood, August 2017

I'm back in California for a week to visit my old friends and old haunts, staying in West Hollywood with Infinite Chazz.  We're having dinner at Sammy's Thai restaurant on Santa Monica: Chazz, Will the Bondage Boy, Lane, and their partners, plus two other guys.  Most of us are over 50.  Lane and Ben's friend Jerzy is the youngest one there: he just turned 40 a couple of days ago.

Jerzy immigrated from Poland with his parents and baby sister when he was eight years old, went to Cal State Los Angeles and now works in an office down in Lakewood .  He's tall and big-boned, with a rugged face and a severe military haircut, his muscular physique going to fat.  I haven't seen his penis.

We start talking about the problems of being a twink magnet, being approached by young guys constantly, having every hookup turn into a romantic date, being forced into the role of anal top whether you'd much rather be an oral bottom.

"I call b.s.!" Jerzy exclaims.  "Gay culture values youth -- when you turn 40, you're over the hill.  Certainly the twinks don't start lining up to get into your bed!"

"How do you explain my dating a 19-year old college student?" I ask.

"You're a professor, around college students all the time, so what else are you going to meet?"

"I met him at the dentist's office."


 "Expectations.  You think young guys are going to be interested, so you remember the one exception, and forget about the 99% that don't cruise you back."

"Ok, but...I picked up young guys at a restaurant, at the comic book store, at the grocery store, at Lane and Ben's wedding...."

"Well...you live on the Plains, where everybody is El Tubbo.  In L.A. the competition is fierce."

"I get cruised by twinks all the time, too," Chazz says.  "You can't get away from them."

"That doesn't prove anything.  You're Infinite Chazz.  Everybody is interested in you."

"Me, too," Will adds.  "I'm a bondage bottom, but they keep saying 'f** me, Daddy.'"

"You just haven't tried," I say.  "I guarantee that if you went to a twink bar or gym, or LGBT youth center, you'd be getting a phone number a minute."

"Yeah, right," Jerzy says.  "And I guarantee that if you went to a twink bar or gym, you'd die of frostbite from all the shade they'd be throwing."

"That sounds like a challenge."

Chazz smiles.  "How about this: I'll bet that Jerzy can find a guy under age 25  --- no, under 21 -- in the next 24 hours.  At the gym, at the Rage, on Grindr, whatever.  All you have to do is get his phone number."

"What do i get if I succeed?"

"I know you're the world's biggest oral bottom.  We'll meet at my apartment tomorrow night, and if you can prove that you got the phone number of a guy under 21, you can go down on each of us, one at a time -- and let me tell you, there are some massive cocks in this group.  But if you fail, you have to top one of us, whichever asks.  Ok, guys?"

Lane and Ben bow out, but the other guys agree.

Jerzy grins.  "Six cocks just for getting a twink's phone number.  How can I say no?"



Wednesday Night

Chazz offers to let Jerzy spend the night, so he won't have to drive all the way back to Lakewood.  After dinner the three of us hit the Rage, the biggest twink bar in West Hollywood.  Naturally, two guys in their 40s and one who's 56 are ignored by the munchkins buzzing about on the dance floor.

Next we go to the Faultline, the leather/bear bar where Lane and I used to spend many Sunday afternoons.  Not very crowded on a Wednesday night, and the guys there are mostly aging, seasoned leathermen.  I do manage to get cruised by an 20-ish otter, a young, thin guy with a hairy chest.  We make out for awhile, and he gives me his number.  But that's my pickup; Jerzy is mostly ignored.

When we get back to Chazz's apartment, we have a three-way.  Jerzy is good at kissing and very well hung, with a thick uncut Kielbasa.  Chazz and I both go down him, but we won't let him go down on us.

"That's for tomorrow night," Chazz says.  "If you can overcome your aging guilt enough to cruise a twink."

"What you need is a place to show off your muscles," I tell him.  We'll get up at 6:00 and hit the gay gym."


Thursday

Unfortunately, the gay gym is a little short on twinks at 6:30 am.

"Well, where do you go to meet the young guys?" Jerzy asks.

"Everywhere.  Today I was going to go to the Getty Museum, UCLA, and the Santa Monica Pier.  I'm bound to get cruised by a few guys there."

"Ok...I'll take off work today, and go with you.  We'll get the phone numbers of ten Cute Young Things before lunch."

At the Getty Museum, I am cruised by a high school boy on a field trip, but I don't get his phone number.  Jerzy is ignored.

Classes haven't started at UCLA yet, so there aren't many students around, but a cute blond in a UCLA t-shirt strikes up a conversation in the library.  He thinks Jerzy and I are gay dads checking out the campus for their kid.  When he discovers that I'm visiting from the Plains, he offers to take me on an "insider's tour" of Hollywood tomorrow.  Jerzy is ignored.

At lunch, the waiter cruises me.  Jerzy is ignored.

At the Santa Monica Pier, a skateboarding teenager almost runs into us.  In the ensuing conversation, I try to act as Jerzy's wingman, praising him to the hilt.  The skateboarder ignores him.

It's 4:00 pm.  We're suppose to meet at Chazz's apartment in three hours.

"How about a tea-dance at the Toy Tiger?" I suggest.  The bar where every boy is available, for a price.

"No hustlers.  That wouldn't be honest," Jerzy says.  "But I have one more place in mind.  Let me drop you off at Chazz's apartment.  I'l be back at 7:00 pm."

Thursday Night

Six guys gather at Chazz's apartment for snacks and sodas.  Stonewall is playing on tv.   We talk about life on the Plains, how West Hollywood has changed, and the current fascist government, and check the time, waiting for Jerzy to show up.  I tell them about our tour of Los Angeles, and his constantly striking out.  We have no doubt that he will strike out again on his last attempt, and show up empty-handed, and have to act as an anal top instead of an oral bottom.

Then there's a knock on the door.  Jerzy comes in -- with a kid.

A literal kid!  Preteen, maybe ten years old.

Our jaws drop in shock.

"Guys, this is Hunter, my sister's son.  I wanted to stop in and introduce him to all of my friends, and show you the smartphone I bought him.  By the way, I'm the first one he gave his number to."

Hunter politely shakes hands with each of us, and then demonstrates the features of his new phone.

"Ok, we're off for ice cream."  Jerzy grins.  "I'll be back later, after I take Hunter home, to collect my prize."

The deal was: the phone number of a guy under 21.  We never said that it had to be for a date.

See also: How to Attract Twinks