Everybody in West Hollywood had a good celebrity dating story.
Older guys claimed that they had dated Marlon Brandon, Cary Grant, or Rock Hudson.
Younger guys claimed hookups with Scott Baio, Johnny Depp, or Keanu Reeves.
Everybody claimed sausage sightings of Rob Lowe, Tom Selleck, and Sylvester Stallone.
Since nearly every actor was closeted in those days, and vehemently denied any "accusations," it was hard to tell which story was real, which an exaggeration of a casual meeting, and which just wishful thinking.
But Lane didn't have any good stories. Oh, he had dated some actors: a minor cast member of M*A*S*H, the star of a Saturday morning tv show, a guy who played a Klingon on Star Trek. But nobody really famous.
For someone who grew up a stone's throw from Paramount Studios, it was downright embarrassing.
"You can have my Celebrity Boyfriend," I told him one day. "We broke up a while ago, but I'm sure I can arrange some sharing."
"The guy who starred in one tv show that nobody watched? I'd rather stick to my M*A*S*H story."
"How about Michael J. Fox?"
"I don't want a getting-coffee story. If I'm going to do this, I want at least a sausage sighting out of it!"
Lane frowned. "The guy who played the Joker in the old Batman show?"
"You mean Sophia's boyfriend on The Golden Girls," I corrected him. "And also the Cisco Kid. And a Latin lover in about a hundred movies. He was a big heartthrob, back in the day."
The rest of the story, with nude photos and sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.