JP and Jim Verraros

Sat. September 17, 2005 12:00 AM
by Jason Paul

Out and about Chicago gaymous (that's famous for the gays) as I am, men 40 years my senior, alcoholics, mo's in drag and/or alcoholics 40 years my senior in drag are always throwing themselves at me! It's both a blessing and a curse. Yet flattered and horny as I am, we celebs have to keep a high profile and are socially bound to only trick out with one another. I have no choice but to turn down my many intoxicated fans, staring at me star struck with their beer goggles on.

However, when Out Music Award winner JIM VERRAROS gave me a ring-a-ding on the mobile I had only one thought: "I SO GOTTA HIT THAT!" Tapping this American Idol finalist, nationally distributed pop singing recording artist/indie flick movie star fashion forward piece of arm candy would give me bragging rights for years. Maybe even forever!

Yet young Jim, whose debut album ROLLERCOASTER has been getting strong standing on the Billboard Dance charts since its release, and just 22, is still conflicted by the notion that love and sex go hand in hand. I was going to have to wine and dine him first! And where better than Navy Pier, with its wholesome family fun centered cheesiness.

So I showed him I can be cultured. We attended the joint SECOND CITY and CHICAGO SHAKESPEARE THEATER project, ROMEO AND JULIET THE MUSICAL -- a unique new take on the later legal proceedings of the star crossed lovers' demise, blaming their deaths on friend Friar Lawrence. During the first act, I took notice of Jim biting his nails and anxious leg tapping. I thought, how sweet. I make him nervous. When the intermission lights came up he looked at me with his big soft eyes and said, "I've had to pee for like 30 minutes," and bolted from his chair.

I showed him I can be romantic, taking him for a private ride atop the nation's tallest Ferris wheel at Navy Pier. As we reached the top, the sun setting over the skyline, I saw Jim's forehead beading with sweat and the throbbing veins in his hands as they clutched him to his seat. I thought, how sweet. I make him nervous. Telling him not to worry, I moved in for the smooch. "It's not that," he shrugged brushing me off with his shoulder, "I'm afraid of heights!"

I showed him I can be fun, kicking it like the little people do over a round of miniature golf. And I destroyed him! The score was something like 22 to 112. Not that I gloated or anything. I just kept telling him about it. "Well, I lost American Idol too," he joked.

After six hours of courting, it was time for our day to end. Jim dropped me home like the gent he is, and gave me a warm hug and a few soft pecks. "What?" I asked him, "No wet sloppy hot tongue action?

"Don't you know who I am!" I yelled at his taillights as he drove away. "I'm so not going to JimVerraros.com, Amazon.com or the nearest Barnes & Noble to buy your album, or you're recently released DVD EATING OUT, of which you had a staring role! And when your new single gets out next week, I won't listen to it! Do you hear me JIM VERRAROS ? I won't listen!"

But it was an empty threat. I had already purchased 20 copies of each and wallpapered the inserts to the ceiling above my bed -- centering one right where I could see it best.

Buy Jim Verraro's debut album, Rollercoaster, at shop.chicagopride.com!