burrowed into the womb of my apartment. I didn't go into Columbus. I didn't go to gay venues in Dayton. I taught my classes and went to the gym. On weekends I ordered Chinese food, watched Seinfeld, and hung out in internet chatrooms.
Chuck was in his early 30s, very muscular, with short brown hair and a round, appealing face. He visited every couple of weeks -- I would call him, or he would call me.
The rest of the story is on Tales of West Hollywood.