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“No way,” I reassured him. “I really just want to talk with you. Look,” I said, showing him my student ID card.

He thought for a moment, then nodded. “For twenty dollars, I’ll talk to you for a half hour. What do you want to know?”

“I really don’t know where to start,” I said as the two of us moved to a table. “I just need to know the basics about what you do. I need to know about the language you use and the terms for describing your various services.”

He watched while I struggled with this. I was feeling very uncomfortable about the whole situation. Irrationally, I was sure I was going to run into someone I knew, and the next morning the TV would be broadcasting that I’d engaged the services of a male hooker.

Even more disturbing were the images that formed in my brain of what Rico did for a living. The very idea of two men having sex together stirred up some of my most conservative values, so much so that his taking money from almost anyone for his services seemed secondary. Vaguely, I wondered if I was being too judgmental.

Finally, I got right to the point and asked Rico what most of his customers asked for.

“Most guys just want to be blown,” he said matter-offactly. “Others want to be the top man.”

“What’s that?” I asked, having a feeling I knew.

“That’s where they get to do me from behind. That costs the most. I get it all, though. Everything from guys paying to suck my dick to them paying me to fuck them up the ass.”

I couldn’t believe I was hearing this stuff! But I was very careful to maintain a blank expression. I could tell he was trying to shock me and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how uncomfortable I was feeling.

“So,” I continued, “how do you usually get propositioned?”

He then proceeded to educate me about the ins and outs, so to speak, of male prostitution. I learned the terms “hookers” and “Johns” use to describe their roles, how they recognize one another, what they do and how they do it. To tell you the truth, I was totally into this conversation. I couldn’t believe how easy it was to pay someone for a half hour of his time and have him reveal the most bizarre, secret aspects of himself. I knew this was just what I needed to authenticate the character I was in the process of developing.

There was one aspect of the solicitation game that especially interested me because that would be the part of Gacy’s world I’d most need to know about. I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject diplomatically, so I just asked Rico straight out: “Did anyone ever try to hurt you?”

He pulled out a cigarette and looked thoughtful. “You’d be surprised how often that happens. Guys try a lot, but you have to be ready for it.” Although he was acting as if being in constant jeopardy was no big deal, I could tell it really bothered him. After a pause, he continued. “One guy hit me over the head with a club as soon as I got into his car. He said he thought I looked like some guy who robbed him, but I just got the hell out of there. Another time, a guy put a knife to my throat while I was blowing him.”

“Were you scared?” I asked him, frightened myself just hearing the story.

“Fuck yeah! I was thinking about biting his dick completely off. Fuck that cocksucker!” He was angry all over again, just thinking about the incident.

“So how did you get out of that situation?”

“I thought I’d just be able to bail out of there, but I was wrong. After I blew him, he fuckin’ pissed on me.”

Very naively, I asked him what he meant.

“He said, ‘If you fucking move, I’ll slice your throat.’ Then he made me open my mouth and he pissed inside. He did manage to cut the side of my neck from the force of him holding the knife against it. Look at the scar.”

Rico then showed me the scar as he continued. “I was so mad at that motherfucker. I wanted to kill him. If I ever see him again, I got a forty-five waiting to cap his ass.”

“So how did you escape the guy?” I asked, completely captivated by his story. Listening to this guy was