Of course I had had emotional and s****l affairs with men in the last few years, but nothing that lasted more than six weeks: Martin Schuller, the boring accountant; Steven Bowers, the fireman who used his hose on little girls; Oliver Disdain, the professional quarterback who liked women more than men; Ivan Dickerson, the artist who liked heroin more than me. And last but certainly not least, Kevin Rotte, the blond underwear model with the chiseled stomach who…liked many, many, many other models out of their underwear.
In truth, I wasn’t an unhappy single man. One was supposed to love themselves before one could love someone else. I lived by that motto. I enjoyed working with Mina, traveling the world, finding antiques, and snuggling in the corner with a thick Stephen King novel in my sma
