B Scene

Wed. June 1, 2005 12:00 AM
by Jason Paul

MONIQUE MOORE grabbed my package. The reigning Ms. Roscoe's came down off the stage during her number at Hydrate's Hy-Drag Review, strutted right up to me, reached down and grabbed it. She later apologized but I didn't mind. It was the most action I had gotten since the Fireball photographer incident.

The real drama occurred up in the booth when DJ CHRIS ETERNO and club owner MARK LIBERSON scrambled to find the missing CD needed for TERI AKI 's next act. There was so much commotion it brought Ms. Aki out from behind the curtain, exposing herself – dare I say it? – Sans wig! Shameful! However she later redeemed herself by performing the only Bonnie Tyler song that truly speaks to me. I too am holding out for a hero. And he's got to be strong, and he's got to be fast, and he's got to be larger than life! Larger. Than. Life.

At 6'3" tall and muscles bursting out of his nostrils, 2006 Chicago Gay Games spokes-model WILLIAM BOULWARE Esquire comes pretty close. So when Big Willy asked me to join him and his clan at T's Bar and Restaurant in support of the Euro Games shot party fundraiser I eagerly accepted. Being the only U.S. team invited to play in the Mid-June Euro Games is quite an honor, but it comes with a hefty transcontinental price tag. So I threw down a few bills, took the shot tray and had a little party all to myself, feeding Mr. Big B lots of drinks in the process. I figured the more he drank the prettier I'd get. His unrelenting love of me would soon be realized thus saving me from my humdrum existence of fame, trendy magazine glamour and single-hood. Yet alas, he didn't drink enough. I guess I'll just have to go to Team Chicago's Euro Fundraising Beer Blast Benefit at Crew Bar and Grill on June 11th and give it a second shot – so to speak.

P.S. I wish someone would pay to send me to Europe. Hey BOI Magazine and CP.com, how about all exclusive Euro Games coverage from the Jason Paul perspective? Think about it.

In the meantime, I carried on with my hero hunt. Feeling Memorial Day would surely be my best bet, I headed downtown to the International Mr. Leather closing party. No doubt I'd find my savior among the black pelt people. Heroes do wear leather, right? Or is it spandex? I don't know. Yet I was fast to find that my White Knight upon a fiery steed wasn't the one lurking in the dark corners at Excalibur's Black and Blue Ball -- but I kept looking, sometimes getting really close to the goings on just to make sure. It got me a few offers for a little rough trade but I had to decline. Sorry boys! It's going to take a superman to bring to my knees.

Compromising, I made nice with "CARL from San Diego." He's done some "film work." Not exactly the champion of love I had in mind but he is a professional. Late at night when I toss and I turn and I dream of what I need, I gather he'd know just how to save me.