Bookstore Gang, the group of comic book-science fiction-Monte Python fans who hung out at the Student Union Bookstore, but never had real conversations and never saw each other socially. A casual acquaintance, a "school friend" at best.
Bruce also didn't realize that he was my connection to the daylit world, an interpreter of all those alien heterosexual folkways and mores. In fact, he often tried to fix me up with girls, or assumed that I was hot for whatever girl I happened to be chatting with.
I chose him because:
1. He was an English/drama major
2. He didn't date much, so I didn't have to hear the play-by-play of nights of heterosexual excess.
3.. He was not cute, tall and skinny, with a mop of unruly hair and a sharp, angular face. So there would be no weird sublimated attraction. (This guy will give you an idea.)
4. He was pro-gay, at least in theory, though he roiled when someone insinuated that he might be gay.
He hated being called "Brucie" or anything that sounded similar. The Fratboys soon got wise, and took to saying “Are you busy?”, “Do you bruise easy?”, “Do you think Diana Ross is too bluesy?”, or my favorite, “I bought a new record, Strange Brew -- see?” They never tired of seeing Bruce redden with rage.
So all hell broke loose that December night with Leanne.
The full story, with nude photos, is on Tales of West Hollywood.