Saturday, 4 April 2015


MILAN, ITALY August 1999 – June 2000

There I was: back home again. Due to the military hospital restrictions, I could neither move back to London nor I could look for a job, but I could enjoy my free time and I started going out in the scene. Lars, a Danish guy, gift of an intensive week of chatting in the cyber World, was the guy who took me first to the “After Line”, one of the most popular gay bars in Milan. That night I managed to meet one of my former middle school classmate, who also happened to be gay, to get drunk and to develop a stupid crash on Lars. Lars, who was interested in older guys, introduced me to his handsome friend Renzo, who the week later became my boyfriend.

As Renzo still lived with his family, he used to take me around the city with his car. He was totally in love with me, but soon I felt out that the feeling wasn’t reciprocal and our relationship did not last a month. At the end of October I was released from my social duties and I decided it was the time to look for a job. In fact, I had promised my parents that I would spend a few months in Milan before returning to London. The job offer came pretty fast and soon I became a part-time call centre agent for a private television company in the city. The people in the office were very friendly and the environment was kind of fun, however not only the money was crap, but also I missed the spice in my life. It was time to act, I thought. In a matter of a few days I managed to find two ways to get some extra cash and have fun as well. At that time, my mobile phone provider had one of those tricky offers, namely: free top-ups. As my telephone bills were a big burden for my finances, getting free credit for my outbound calls, would have spared me quite some money. The way the whole thing worked was pretty easy: for every one-hour of incoming phone calls, my phone would have been credited of 7000 Liras. The only problem was, the incoming volume of my calls was just too low and I had to find the way to push it up. "Why don't I publish my mobile phone number in a gay thread?" I thought.  The silly side of me, the urge of money and my bad conscience, won over the good proposals of me being a nice guy. So I wrote an advert including my contact number, I scanned my pictures, I posted them onto the Internet and I waited for responses. Well, I did not have to wait that long, as the advert appeared on line my phone started ringing and it kept on ringing for quite some time every day after 7pm. Naples, Palermo, Rome and Bologna, were the cities from where most of the guys called. Within a few days I became a professional in the erotic line business. I still recall that day when I was on the tram and I had to tell a guy who had called me that it was neither the place nor the time to dirty-talk with him… “No, I can’t give you a blow job right now, I am on the tram! People are looking…”