top of page

while it’s here, darling. Your next one could be a complete flop.’ ”

     His use of such an endearing term for himself was the perfect transition and I grabbed it.

     “Do you call everyone darling?”

     “No, only the people I like.”

     Harold was being coy but I knew everyone was waiting to hear more about his memoir. He had been on the radio talk-show circuit for his book, but we were the first TV show with the guts to put him on camera.

     “I knew I was different as soon as I reached consciousness and found myself secretly undressing every man I saw.”

     “Every one of them?”

     “Yes, but I stripped the hunks faster.”

     “When did you start to really act on those fantasies?”

     “I came to New York when I turned eighteen and discovered the City was an all you-could-eat sexual banquet and I was starved.”

     “Did you get your fill?”


     “You still enjoy dining out?”

     “As much as I can.”

“What else did you discover?”


was when I saw the inscription, Good luck with The Gay Detective. Bottoms Up, Harold. Then I noticed a small switch on its side, turned it on, and it became warm to the touch.

     Darren had directed the cameraman to do a closeup of the message and the audience clapped.

     “I know how cold it gets here in the Windy City, even though you all forget that every winter. And honestly, I wouldn’t have come but Darren made me feel like I’d be insulting Mother Teresa if I didn’t show up.”

     “Thank you for coming and for the great gift. It’s better than having a boyfriend. I can turn it off and on when I want and it gets hot immediately. Better yet, I can carry it in my pocket.”

     “Makes me wish I was a hand-warmer,” Harold said.

     “From what I hear, you’re more than a hand-warmer.”

     “Someone’s been doing research,” Harold squeaked as he
placed the fingers of his left hand under his chin and turned his body to face Darren, who winked, encouraging him to keep talking.

     “Your tell-all memoir has been on the New York Times best sellers list for the last ten weeks, Harold. How does that make you feel?”

     “Lovely. Just lovely but I’m not letting it go to my head.”
     “How do you do that?”
     “I look in the mirror in the morning and say, ‘Enjoy it



bottom of page