Cruising the Dwarf in West Hollywood

West Hollywood, March 1992

I have always been attracted to guys who are short, the shorter the better.  Under 5'8" is good, under 5'4" is great.

Dwarf/Little Person? (Members of the group use both terms) -- whoa, here's my number!

But only about 30,000 people in the U.S. are Dwarfs/Little People (according to activist Danny Woodburn, either term is correct).  That means about 1,000 adult gay men.  And since people with atypical bodies often have fewer hangups about their partners' gender, maybe another 3,000 who are bisexual, or straight but "bent around the edges."

4,000 in a country with a population of 300,000,000 The odds against of meeting one are astronomical!

In Los Angeles, the odds increase a bit: due to wide-ranging discrimination, many LP are drawn to show business.  So I occasionally saw a LP at a Hollywood event, or on the street in Century City.  But never in a gay context.

Except one night in the spring of 1992, when my partner Lane and I were at the Faultline on Melrose.

It was always packed with bears, bikers, leathermen, and their Cute Young Thing admirers, but never before or after had I seen Ryan (not his real name) -- about 4'0", shirtless, muscular, with a broad oval face and a quick smile.  He was a little drunk, and heavily cruising a Cute Young Thing (who was trying hard to ignore him).

I wasn't going to let this opportunity pass!  Lane and I had an open relationship, so he agreed to be my wingman.  We sidled up to the spot next to Ryan, and Lane asked, "How's the filming going?"

In West Hollywood, any hint that you worked in show business immediately netted you some fans.  But Ryan glanced over with cool, crisp Attitude, and redoubled his efforts to land the Cute Young Thing.

"Um...filming is going great," I said.  "Next week we're having a wrap-up party on the yacht."

"Are you bringing the Maserati?"

"No, that's still down in my place in Cabo."

 Of course, I didn't have a yacht, a Maserati, or a place in Cabo, but cruising is all about the illusion.  But Ryan remained unimpressed.

Lane and I exchanged panicked glances.  None of my good material was working!  Think, think, think...what did West Hollywood guys like more than showbiz contacts and bank accounts?  

"But you know, I really miss my modeling days." (This was true; I did do some modeling)

"Yeah, I loved your spread in Inches. Didn't you win the Spectacular Pecs award?"

"No, I got runner-up."

An appearance in a beefcake magazine.  Who could resist checking that out?

But Ryan was gazing wistfully as the Cute Young Thing wafted off to cruise a leatherman.  He drained his beer and started walking away.

What did West Hollywood guys like more than showbiz contacts, bank accounts, and pecs?

I walked over, stood directly in front of Ryan, blocking his way, and said "Hi."

He was exactly 2 feet shorter than me, so he was looking directly at my crotch.  His eyes widened.

Penises are more important than pecs, bank accounts, and showbiz contacts. I got his number.

A Hook Up with Burt Ward on the "Batman" Set

On Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons in the spring of 1991, after my course in Biblical Hebrew at UCLA, I often drove up to Brentwood to visit Cesar Romero, the actor best known as The Cisco Kid in the 1940s and the Joker in the 1960s Batman series.  We didn't become friends, exactly; we sat in his living room drinking lemonade, while he told about the many celebrities he had hooked up with through his career: Johnny Sheffield, Tommy Cook, Desi Arnaz (father and son both), Cary Grant, Walter Pidgeon, Raymond Burr, Tony Perkins,  Tab Hunter, Rock Hudson.

And Batman and Robin both!

He had gone down on Adam West (Batman) several times at all-male parties before he began playing the Joker.  No big surprises there.

But Burt Ward was 21 years old, a sheltered, conservative college jock who was not even aware that same-sex acts exist until  Adam West explained.  He allowed Cesar to go down on him once ("Huge!  A Kielbasa!"), but was never really comfortable around gay people.

So this story leaves me with a few questions.

Warning: there is a bisexual scene.

Hollywood, Spring 1967

Call me Scott.  I was one of the writers for the Batman series in the 1960s.  I wrote for the villains, making them as camp as possible.  My favorites were the women: Catwoman; Black Widow; Olga, Queen of the Cossacks; Marsha, Queen of Diamonds, played by Caroline Jones (Morticia of The Addams Family).  

But the male villain had their charms.  Many of them were gay: Cesar Romero (The Joker), Burgess Meredith (The Penguin), Victor Buono (King Tut), Liberace (Chandell).  After filming we used to go out to the bars, or to Cesar's house for an all-male party.   Adam West (Batman) and one of the costume designers came on occasion, but not Burt Ward (Robin).

I definitely wanted an opportunity to make it with Burt.  Have you seen the bulge in his tights?  Well, I've seen it close up!

Everyone said he was a sheltered, shy kid who didn't even know that gay people existed.  Even Cesar Romero struck out, and he made it with every guy in Hollywood.

Well, one day I got my chance.

Remember all those cliffhanging scenes, with the Dynamic Duo tied up?  We filmed the start and finish at the same time, to ensure continuity, which means that they sometimes had to stay tied up for a couple of hours.  Often they were left alone on a secluded stage for 20-30 minutes, with nothing to do but get hit on.

Some of the girls in the crew were notorious for taking that opportunity to kiss and fondle the helpless victims.  They would even bring in their friends to get a handful.  I never saw any penis actually come out, but there was a lot of groping and tenting -- I've seen both Adam and Burt fully aroused.

Ok, maybe they weren't entirely helpless -- most of the props were rather flimsy, so if they really worked at it, they could escape.  And, one yell would bring a stage hand running.  Maybe they enjoyed the attention.

In an episode we filmed just before the 1967 summer hiatus, Burt was tied up alone, spreadeagle on a table.  I walked past during the staging, as usual, and saw two girls working on him, #1 kissing him and #2 rubbing his crotch.

I walked up, said "Let an expert show you how it's done," then pulled out his cock.

Burt didn't protest -- he was busy kissing Girl #1.  I don't think he even noticed me.  I licked his balls, then his shaft, then drew all 8" into my mouth, sucking on the head while masturbating him.

He moaned, probably thinking that Girl #2 was going down on him.  Then she said "Who invited the fairy to the party?"

Burt looked up. I immediately moved my mouth away from his cock, but continued to masturbate him.

"Hi," I said.  Not much else to say in that situation.

"Oh, hi."  Burt looked at me for a long moment.  I couldn't tell if he was mad or not.  "Say, can you get Dick a girlfriend? [Dick Grayson, Robin's alter ego]. Fans are starting to talk."

"Sure, buddy, no problemo."  I returned to his cock.  Girl #2 shrugged and moved up to kiss him.  A few moments later, he spurted into my throat -- enormous load!  I wiped him off with my handkerchief, and moved on.

I tried to keep my word, but my "Dick's Girlfriend is Kidnapped" idea didn't make it.  But I did manage the next best thing: The premiere episode of the third season introduced Yvonne Craig as Barbara Gordon, Batgirl!

And no, I never had the opportunity to go down on Burt again.

My Nephew Fixes Me Up with His Central Asian Friend

Every year my father celebrated his birthday by hosting a barbecue for his family and friends, held on the Saturday afternoon closest to June 6th.  I always tried to schedule my summer visit to Rock Island or Indianapolis to coincide with it.

Dad died last year, so I assumed that the barbecues were over, until I got a Facebook Instant Message from my sister's son, Joseph, age 27, a doctoral student in Central Asian Languages, at Indiana University.

"I'm continuing Grandpa's tradition of Memorial Day Barbecues.  At my house in Bloomington.  Can you make it?  I want to talk to you about something."

"Sure, no problem," I responded, curious.  What could he want to talk about.  Maybe he wanted to come out!

I figured that Joseph had to be gay, or at least bi.  He was flamboyant and theatrical, swishing and limp-wristed, with that nasal "gay accent" voice.  He wears bright pastel shirts and tight bulging jeans and plastic bracelets. He belonged to an LGBT news group on Facebook, and he drove his Dad's vintage 1969 car in the Indianapolis Gay Pride Parade.

Definitely coming out.  Or -- had he turned fundamentalist, and wanted to quote Leviticus at me?

Better skip the staying-over invitation.  "Thanks, but I already accepted an invitation to stay with Tyler."  A friend in Indianapolis.

And I brought along David from San Francisco for moral support -- an ex-Baptist minister with a master's degree in Classics, an expert on the Biblical passages used to promote homophobia.

We arrived on Wednesday and saw my mother and my sister and brother-in-law, but not Joseph, not until Saturday afternoon, the barbecue: hot dogs and hamburgers grilled in the back yard of Joseph's 100-year old house just outside of Bloomington.

How did they afford it, when he and his roommates were all graduate students?

We said hello to Joseph and gave him a gift, then pushed our way through the crowd, saying hello, getting introduced.  I counted over 20 adults, plus kids.  All relatives, all heterosexual as far as I could tell -- with one exception.

A young guy on the far side of the yard, talking to someone I didn't recognize. Shorter than me, dark-skinned, square head with heavy eyebrows and a big smile, a v-shaped torso, a hard smooth chest with prominent nipples, a little belly, and heavy, square workman's hands.

"Dibs," I whispered to David, and walked over to introduce myself and cruise him.  Heavily.

Then Joseph grabbed me.  "Can I talk to you for a second.  Without David?"

He took me onto the screen porch.

Uh, oh -- this is it! I thought.  He's either going to come out or pull out a Bible!

But he said "Is David your boyfriend?"

"Uh -- no,"

"Ok, good.  I didn't expect you to bring anyone...um...so I got a date for you."

"What?" A blind date?

"I know what it's like to feel out of place at these family gatherings, so I invited Ravi, from Kazakhstan.  He's just come out, and looking to meet people.  And he likes older guys."  He grabbed my knee.  "I got you tickets to a dance concert tonight -- but I didn't know David would be here, so I just got two."

"Oh, no problem, he sounds great."

Kazakh, the language spoken by the Turkic tribes that descended on Central Asia a thousand years ago:

I like to eat big sausages.
Turkish: Büyük sosisleri severim
Kazakh:Men ülken şujıq jewge unaydı

"But won't David feel left out?"

Apparently Joseph had never heard of the gay community custom of "sharing."  It's not common on a first date, but not unheard-of.

Ravi (real name Ravil) turned out to be in engineering, not in Central Asian Languages: 23 years old, in the U.S. only about a year. He always knew that he liked guys, but only acknowledged that he was gay a few months ago.  He had never met any older gay men before, and peppered us with questions about how we came out, how we formed romantic relationships, if we ever wanted to get married and have kids, if we knew any gay Muslims.

Oddly, David refused to come along to the dance concert ("Dance is a Contact Sport", about dancers pretending to be football and baseball players, not very interesting), or cruising at the Metro afterwards.  Maybe he didn't want to horn in on "my territory."

When we got back to the apartment, David and Tyler were already asleep, so we took the guest room.

Ravi was very passionate, into kissing and fondling, with a very thick cut Bratwurst.   I went down on him until he spurted, then moved into the interfemoral position, which he had never done before.

In the morning Tyler -- but not David -- joined us.  I went down on them both while they were kissing, then fondled Tyler's testicles while they moved into the 69 position.  Then Ravi went down on me while Tyler pushed into my mouth.

David interrupted us.  "Hey,  I hate to ruin the party...."  He reached out and fondled Ravi.

"No, it's ok, join us," Ravi said.  "I would love your cock in my ass."

"Sounds tempting, but no time.   We should get going if we're going to make it to church.  I'm be waiting in the living room."

Ravi seemed a little put-out by David's reluctance.  He let me go down on him until he finished, then quickly dressed and left.  When I called later, he claimed to be too busy to get together again.

I never found out why David didn't want to "share."  Maybe Ravi wasn't his type, or maybe he was just tired after several days of Indianapolis cruising.

But I got to hook up with a beautiful guy from Central Asia, and hear the Kazakh language!

Later I instant messaged Joseph:  "Thanks for introducing me to Ravi.  He was very nice.  Too bad we won't have time to see each other again before I go home."

"You're leaving soon?" Joseph responded.  "We never had a chance to talk."

I thought Ravi was the talk!  "Ok, I have some time this afternoon."

Coming out, finally?  Suggesting a three way with Ravi?

We met at a little restaurant on the south side.

"I have a job offer at the University of Amsterdam," Joseph said. "I know you go there every year, so I wanted to ask your advice about living there."

Two years later, Joseph came out as transgender.  Sorry about the deadname and he/him pronouns, but that's what they used at the time.