I
met him in the spring of 1993 at a bar, a gay bar, near downtown. He was a young, good looking man, had long blonde hair, and was full of himself and flamboyant as hell. He thought he could have his way with other guys with his baby blue eyes and soft spoken “jazzy” voice. He thought that of me too until he found out I liked females instead.
To read more of my current Living Out Loud column in CityBeat, “Not So Jazzy,” click here.
(Photo from Google)
