We stayed with Thomas, a Episcopal priest whose congregation didn't know: "They assume that because I'm a priest, I'm celibate." He lived alone, except for two dogs, with a huge collection of pornographic magazines and photos, both gay and straight, neatly classified by author, magazine, and type. I spent the afternoon rummaging through it while Fred and Thomas were out talking about religion or something -- Fred didn't approve of porn -- and got my first glimpse of some of the great gay erotic artists, like Tom of Finland, Sean, and the Hun.
The next day at breakfast I met Boyfriend #1, a tall, slim redhead who worked at one of Des Moines' straight bars. He lived with his girlfriend, but sometimes came over when his shift ended.
Later that day, we had lunch with Oscar, Malcolm Boyd, Thomas, and Boyfriend #2. I don't remember much about him.
I drove back to the house later that evening -- Fred was off with Oscar -- and yelled "Is anybody home?" No answer.
For Boyfriend #3, see the full story on Tales of West Hollywood.