But not to worry, Europe comes to me. Jaan from Estonia. Eli from Amsterdam Doc from Vienna, And Yuri several times.
I was anxious to see Yuri again, but also a little self-conscious.
He lived in London, one of the biggest, most exciting cities in the world. I lived in a small town in the Midwest.
He lived in the heart of Soho, London's gay neighborhood, with a hundred gay bars, restaurants, gyms, bath houses, bookstores, and retail outlets a stone's throw away. I lived a hundred miles from the nearest gay bar.
What could I possibly do to entertain him?
I tentatively made a list of local sights. We had a a scenic waterfall, a running path that led through the countryside, a downtown sculpture walk, and a historic mansion.
"What would you like to do while you're here?" I asked in a hesitant email.
" I want to go to the Severe Weather Research Center in Boulder. That is not far, is it?"
I looked it up. "Ok, a nine hour drive. Anything local that you'd like to see?"
"Maybe the Corn Palace in Mitchell, South Dakota. And the Little House on the Prairie -- I watched it when I was a kid. And hot Prairie farmboys, for sure."
When I visited Yuri in London, he and Michael, his partner at the time, fixed me up with a guy who was exactly my type.
Yuri's type was at least 10 years older, muscular, preferably a bodybuilder, with a Mortadella+++ beneath the belt.
He was now 40 years old. Where was I going to find a 50+ year old with those qualities?
Or any 50 year old? They were vanishingly rare on the Prairie. Most middle-aged guys had long since packed up and moved to the big city, leaving only a few who were in monogamous relationships, a few straight guys on the down-low, and twinks.
Yuri arrived at 9:30 pm. I picked him up at the airport and took him out to dinner at Minerva's, the best restaurant in town, and then home to share my bed overnight.
Yuri was in his first months of shifting from Regular Guy to Daddy. He was bearded, a little craggy, a little gray, but still gym-toned, and still effervescent with good humor,
"It's a nice town," he said diplomatically. "Quiet. Not busy with cars like London."
The 10:30 service at the Metropolitan Community Church, followed by lunch with an older gay couple, Harold in his 70s and Wayne in his 50s. Neither was particularly muscular, but I saw Wayne at the gym, and knew that he had a Bratwust beneath the belt.
The full story, with nude photos and explicit sexual content, is on Tales of West Hollywood.