The Man with a Plan
Every john is looking to put something to rest, but good tricks keep them coming back.
Hooking Dan the first time wasn’t difficult. I was working at a hustler bar when my shoelace caught under the heel of his Keen sandal. I fell, cursing. He helped me up and bought me a conciliatory cocktail, asking me if I “liked old movies.” I told him “of course I like old movies.” His eyes lit up, so I casually dropped my rates. I didn’t expect him to bite. He was one of those relaxed, baby boomer fops who still believed in things like Liz Taylor and brioche, the kind that might wear khaki shorts to bars and try to impress tricks by touting their disinterest in paying for sex.
At his house we sat on the porch, drinking beers and smoking up, waxing poetic about cinema when, rather unexpectedly, he began telling me a sad story.