Just a boy meets boy kinda thing
It happened like so many other stories. I’d been a fan of his work for a while. We met at a weekend event and I finally got up enough nerve to chat with him in the elevator. Just a couple of words, a brief acknowledgment that I knew who he was. I didn’t want to intrude. Later that evening, another quick chat, a photo. Cuter in person than I imagined he’d be. Throughout the weekend, I tried to keep track – surreptitiously – of where he might be. The fact that we were at the same events, not really a surprise – it was a well planned out weekend for attendees. I tried not to be that ‘hanger on’ that seems to be prevalent at events like this. The sycophant that can’t help but get on so many people’s nerves. Last day of the weekend, a charity auction. An early auction, won, an intriguing opportunity – fueled by a few too many beers – to show how much I enjoyed his work. “How’s your weekend been?” “I’ve been looking for someone to deep throat me, actually.” “Well, I’m kin