Devon Hunter

I have been getting some emails asking what is tantamount to “Why haven’t you been giving much career advice or offering personal observations now that you’re not dancing in clubs?”

There are (what I think) three very good reasons:

1. I have been escorting for only 8 months or so. In my mind I want to have a solid year’s experience, so that I can properly look at what I have seen before I start trying to comment on it or analyze it. This summer I will start talking about the escorting in the way I used to talk about the exotic dancing; however…
2. Talking about escorting is a far more sensitive matter than exotic dancing was. When I had observations/complaints/analyses/questions before it was directed towards an anonymous, generalized audience/public. Talking about appointments opens the client up to what might be taken as personalized attacks. One reason I want to wait at least a year before I start talking about this is so that I will have a large enough body of experience that no one will know a particular situation is directed at him per se.
3. I don’t feel like I’m in a position to do so yet. I feel I can speak with authority about the clubs and dancing, because I was in them for 12 years. What’s more, once my exclusive with Sean Cody expires (finally, GOD!), I will also be doing more video work (I hope). I want to see how that component works itself into what I am already doing. I think it will offer layers of nuance that I can’t speak about yet.

So then, I hope you understand now why I’ve been focusing on my personal life more than my career in the entries for a while. I have had some pitfalls and challenges in my love life (which I have, I am happy to say, resolved for better or worse), and I felt it would be better to deal with them, rather than try to shove them to the side and risk speaking from a place of distracted ignorance. (Oh, and Pete: Yes, I finally gave up on Matt. He has been deleted and blocked - more to keep me from going back than to keep him from bothering me… he would have had to be a bit more accessible to do that, right? LOL)

This weekend I was at PT1109, and I guess it was time for my annual Spring nuclear meltdown. It’s my way of doing a thorough emotional Spring cleaning. I’m not proud of it, and I generally feel deep shame for about three-five days after it happens. I have had one every year in either April or May ever since I can remember. I’m normally very even-keeled (for a gay guy), but (over the course of a year) various tiny shreds of stress will pile up in a dry heap, and then someone will do or say something that causes a spark. And then… well…

I was going around the bartop, and I looked down to see three guys at the end of the circuit. I am familiar with the third person, having chatted with him numerous times. The other two (unbeknownst to me) were a couple. I thought one of these two was about to pull his penis out, since it looked like his button was unsnapped, looked like his hand was down the front of his pants, and it appeared he was pulling up, as if about to pull it right on out. This, of course, is against the rules. If I’d known then that this fairly innocuous situation was going to nosebomb out of control, I would have been curt in interrupting what I genuinely thought was about to be a “no no” moment and would have moved along.

However, in trying to keep from offending people, I made a game of it. “Oh! You’re tired of looking at mine, so now I finally get to see yours?” The guy with his hand in his pants just smiled, took his hand out, and made light of it. The man next to him, however, got his feathers ruffled up. I thought it’d be a nice gesture to flirt with him too, so as not to seem like a kill-joy.

“Hello, what’s your name?”

“I’m S____, and he’s my boyfriend.”

“I didn’t ask who he is, I asked who you are,” I said with a teasing tone. ”What’s your name again?”

“S____.”

“Nice to meet you, S____.” (Insert hand shake) “And what’s your name?”

“M____.”

“Nice to meet you M____.” (Insert hand shake)

This is the moment where everything spiraled out of control. It has been made known to me (48 hours later) that “M” has evidently voiced a flattering appraisal of my appearance in the past, and that “S” is upset at me because of this. It should also be mentioned that the other three dancers that night not only flirted with “S” and “M,” but that they also hugged and squeezed on the couple as well (in addition to the third person who was sitting next to them). I do not know “S,” and I’d seen “M” only in passing for about a year. I’d never seen the two together that I can recall, didn’t know that they were a couple, and didn’t know that I was the only dancer not allowed to “flirt” with “S”’s man. After I shook “M”’s hand I stood up to leave when “S” made a disgusted face and gave me a “you’re dismissed” flick of the wrist. His utter disdain was the spark that lit me up.

“Do not dismiss me. Ever.”

“I just did.”

“You’re not in a position to dismiss me.”

From there it descended into a shouting match in front of the entire crowd. We exchanged angry threats and abusive names. I was going to walk away, but then “S” started yelling at the bartender about me. So I went back over. “No! We can have this conversation with me right here, bitch!”

“You were hitting on my boyfriend!”

“YOU’RE IN A FUCKING STRIP CLUB!” I roared so loudly that I could be heard clearly over the music. I was shaking with rage, and it was all I could do to pull my finger out of ”S”’s face. At that I stormed away.

It turns out that “S” is a friend of the owner of the bar. I really am completely non-plussed by this fact. There are other issues here that are more important: Aside from the various dysfunctions that have been accumulating in the background in this club, the couple in question were possibly already drunk when they came in, the bartenders gave them more alcohol (perhaps because they were scared to “cut off” friends of the owner?), and I got involved with them only because I thought ”M” was about to commit a major faux pas. I am not going to apologize to anyone for anything. The only mistake I feel I made was allowing the dismissal from someone I don’t even know to burn me so badly.

It seems that “S” is a person of some importance in the local gay community. That, too, is irrelevant in my mind. I don’t recall ever seeing him before in the two years that I’ve danced at PT1109, didn’t know he had a problem with me, didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to interact with the person who happens to be his boyfriend, and didn’t know that ”S” had any special privileges because of his connection to the owner. If people expect me to know this fucking bullshit, then they should let me in on these facts.

The bottom line is this: I don’t give a good goddamn if you’re Barack Obama himself. In the dark with a drink in your hand, if you’re crunk and hollaring in a bar, you’re just another inebriated asshole to me. I don’t care who you think you are - I am not the one to dismiss because you have the mistaken notion that I want anything but a dollar from your boyfriend.

In the meantime my pride is healing slowly. These yearly explosions embarrass me completely. They make me feel like I’m out of control of myself. And they make me feel stupid. I’m not sorry that I yelled at “S,” I’m sorry that someone of so little importance to me became far too important in such a short time. Although I am ashamed of the outburst, I don’t feel obliged to apologize for it. Maybe that seems complicated or ridiculous, but if anyone owes anyone anything, “S” owes me a dollar for shaking his hand without vomiting on him.

I’m excited to announce that Scotty and I will be going to a location that is not only new to us, but new in general. An old favorite in Washington, D.C. called Ziegfeld’s/Secrets was closed down about three years ago and demolished, so that the baseball stadium could be built. After a long wait, the club reopened about a month ago, and the management there invited us to come up at our earliest convenience…

Well, that is this weekend!

If you live in the D.C. metro area, and you would like to come out and say hello, the new Ziegfeld’s/Secrets is located at:

1824 Half Street SW
Washington, D.C. 20024
http://www.secretsdc.com/

As with Swinging Richards in Atlanta, GA, this is a nude bar, so don’t be actin’ all shy when you walk in, and there’s buck nekkid peeps on all the bartops. Hope you are all well, and that some of y’all out in cyberland will come see me and say hello. I have been told that at this club there is no touching, lap dancing, or VIP giving. So, if you come out, be prepared to tip “only in the socks or armbands.” Evidently there’s a strict rule (as in Atlanta) about touching below the waist and above the knee.

Sorry, couldn’t resist the New Kids on the Block reference… Anyway, there’s a new LGBTQ magazine coming out soon, and I am the first cover man for it (click to enlarge). The magazine is called Night OUT Carolinas, and it will be placed in all the bars in North and South Carolina. It will also have some placement in the border areas of Tennesse, Virginia, and Georgia. If you see a copy, pick one up and check out the resources inside. From what I understand it will be a full color, glossy, 8.5 x 5.5, saddle stiched booklet. Advertisers can place ads, and it should become a pretty helpful way to stay in touch with what’s happening across the region. Hope you are all having a good week!

You’re feelin’ it – it’s the night you’ve been waitin’ for… ya gonna go out and see some hot men dance in their underwear (or something even less)… Hell, you might even be feelin’ a lap dance if one of the hotties inspires you. C’mon out to the club, baby – we’ll have a good time…

Here are 10 pointers to remember before you come up in the joint:

• 1. Bring money: Clubs are businesses. Businesses are open to generate money. Dancers are employees. Ergo, employees need to get paid. You don’t necessarily have to break your bank – bring a $20 and change it out for $1’s and $5’s. Believe me, it’s much appreciated when patrons understand why they’re there. Oh, and if you don’t bring money, please understand that you don’t get to chant along to Fergie’s “Glamorous” when it gets to the end (“And if you ain’t got no money take yo broke ass home!”). No really. You don’t get to chant along… it’s directed at YOU.
• 2. Wear khakis or some other soft pants without sharp buttons, studs, and exposed stitching or zippers. You may very well end up getting a lap dance, and, for the dancer(s) you select, rubbing on blue jeans hurts.
• 3. Drink responsibly. You are not going to do well in a strip club sloshed off your ass.
• 4. Be polite to the entertainers. Regardless of what you think of dancers in general, everyone has a reason for being there, and it has little or nothing to do with your opinion. Treating entertainers poorly is not a good way to pump yourself up. Be respectful, especially if a dancer is kind to you. Report rudeness to the management. If you aren’t interested in a private dance when offered one, a simple, “no, thank you” will suffice. Avoid cocking eyebrows or making disgusted faces. It’s embarrassing and hurtful to many dancers. You’re at a strip club, and you got offered a lap dance – get over it. (see pointer #1 above)
• 5. Exotic dancers are, with some exceptions, merely that. We are not paid to sleep with you, especially not for $20. This ain’t K-Mart, honey. (see pointer #4 above)
• 6. Watch the performers. Turning your back on all the dancers to talk to your friends defeats the purpose of your coming to the club. (see pointers #1 and #4 above)
• 7. Stalking is very not sexy. If your invitation to socialize outside the club is not readily accepted, simply acknowledge and move on.
• 8. When you ask a dancer his name and he tells you, avoid responding with, “Is that your real name?” The dancer has told you his name.
• 9. If you touch a dancer, TIP A DANCER. (see pointers #1 and #4 above)
• 10. Cheering, although appreciated, does not replace audience participation. (see pointer #1 above)