By Randall Jobe

In the beginning of this series I put a lot of emphasis on the sexual nature of the male species of the LGBTQIA community. I am much more versed in that one. You might say I can speak to it, having experienced it first hand (!) They’re the same ones who wear their sexual pursuit like a pair of Prada shoes they can’t really afford.

Having come of sexual age in the dark ages (late ’70s and early ’80s), decades later I would naively think that Millennials and now Gen-Xers would somehow have been saved the desperate storm of sexual desperate pursuit. Ha! The little hookers simply have technology behind them which allows them to sit at home in their Haagen Dazs-stained Lizzo T-shirts, without the need to brush their teeth or run a brush through what hair hasn’t been “faded” within an inch of a shaved serial killer look. They simply scroll through hundreds of dick pics looking for Mr. Right-In-This-Moment.

I don’t have to list the available hunting sights available, and if I do, honey, you must be older than I am and have to steal a photo as an identity to not be “swiped” so hard that it would hurt your mamma! You wouldn’t stand a snowman’s chance in hell by the twinks looking for a body that rates with them on a 1-to-10 as a solid 8 or above. Of course, it doesn’t matter what their rating might be from others, since most are giving themselves a plus-two point “rating curve.”

Many will select, hook up, get laid and send “what-was-his-name?” packing faster than you could order a pizza, have it delivered and make it through an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race. Then they will have showered (hopefully!) and taken their happy (and momentarily satisfied) little butts to snoozeland. 

I try not be begrudge the shallow pursuits of immediate sexual gratification. Trust me, I know that when your hormones start whore-moaning it’s hard (!) to clean mold from the fridge, or organize the toy drawer as a diversion. So, grab the phone and UberSex will answer the call of the wild!

Thus begins the gay history lesson from Professor Old-As-F*ck: Sit up straight, grab your phone to take notes and attempt to focus (if your attention span hasn’t already taken you to TikTok).

Before the availability of “dick-at-a-glance”, we used to take great care to actually prepare for the hunt. We would shave, shower and carefully select our “Baby’s-gone-a’whoring” ensembles. They ranged from nearly starched button downs and jeans to, for the truly bold, tank tops and Levi’s 501s with crotch buttons naturally (or not) ready to burst their ample (or not) contents free of their confines. Hair was meticulously coiffed, cologne applied and all topped off with multiple Altoids. 

Alone, or more often in packs, we would head out to our favorite gay watering holes and begin the unfathomable process of meeting, greeting, talking and learning a little about each other over multiple drinks before the same sexual conquest as the app-happy cluster of happy hunters.

Hopefully before jumping into bed, interaction gave you a sense of the personal behind the penis and a sense of whether you were heading home with a Jeffrey Dahmer (Google it) type. 

Occasionally you would hear of a “one-nighter” striking gold that actually led to dating and an ongoing relationship, when two people are together longer that an hour and a half.

The lesson? If you sweet young things ever decide that what you are looking for extends beyond last year’s petulant penises, you will be forced to develop skills beyond selecting from a never ending barrage of equally socially deprived individuals’ list, and you’ll learn how to maneuver beyond the bedroom and Sunday Funday.

It may seem tough at first, but you might actually enjoy the journey. It might be fun to fight over the last of the Haagen Dazs in your Lizzie and Megan Trainer T-shirts and binge watch RuPaul with a warm body you know as more than a trick. Why not take a ride back in time to the Gay Dark Ages? Chances are you’re there now, and just don’t know it.  

Class dismissed.