When I saw Brian at the loft party, he was shirtless and covered in sweat. He was tall and muscular, with thick chest hair that tapered neatly down his six-pack abs, and he was dancing maniacally, flailing his arms, and physically picking up random men only to drop them back down again. His beauty literally made me gasp; he had a body you only see in gay magazine photo spreads.
I tried to make eye contact, but no matter how hard I stared, he didn't notice me. Though, to be fair, he also looked high out of his mind.
"Who is that guy?" ...
Thomas Rogers is Salon's former Arts Editor. He has written for the Globe & Mail, the Village Voice and other publications. He can be reached at @thomasmaxrogers.