Money’s on the Dresser: Escorting, Porn and Promiscuity in Las Vegas by Christopher Daniels
Authors: Christopher Daniels
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great. It tasted like the drip you get in the back of your throat after snorting a line of cocaine—kind of bitter, but I liked it. The aftertaste made my dick even harder, and I was onto the next guy. I sucked off six guys that night and probably spent a total of two hours in there. I felt like one of the depraved sex addicts I read about in my ex-gay ministry reading material, but I didn’t care. After the sixth guy blew his load in my mouth, I couldn’t hold back any longer and I shot a huge load all over the floor of the booth before collapsing on the padded bench. The last guy I was with wanted me to go to his hotel with him and spend the night, but I was not interested. I was there to suck dick, not find a boyfriend. I had a boyfriend at home and that was enough.
During the years of cruising bookstores, my relationship with Patrick became very strained. We had a codependent cycle and neither one could break it because it was comfortable for both of us. I desperately wanted to be taken care of, and Patrick loved being the caretaker. We had a nice life together with two cars, two dogs, and a brand-new house. Life was pretty much perfect, except the fact that we never had sex anymore and had become completely distant emotionally and physically. I was twenty-three when I had met Patrick, and I was now in my late twenties. I had changed as a person and didn’t want to be tied down in a relationship I wasn’t fully invested in. I think Patrick felt this, too, but he didn’t want to admit it. He was used to being the caretaker and liked that role. Without it he seemed lost, and I felt like I was continuing with the relationship simply because we had so much invested, and I didn’t know how to break away. I truly did love him but I knew love wasn’t enough to stay together if things were clearly not working.
One night we were out partying with friends of mine from Jubilee. It took a lot of convincing Patrick to go out with us because he had grown so content with just staying home, working around the house or watching television and relaxing. If we did go out, it was usually to a low-key place where we would have a few beers, play pool, and talk with friends. I was still into going out to clubs, drinking until dawn, going for breakfast, and then passing out around eight or nine in the morning. It was Las Vegas after all. This is how most of us spent our time when we went out. Patrick would put up with it and act like he was having fun, but I knew he wasn’t. We had been out to the popular gay club on the strip called Krave and then headed to a hole-in-the-wall bar called the Buffalo. I was there with my friends Monica, Brent, and Jacob. Jacob had a fresh stash of cocaine and was sharing it freely with everyone. Hard drugs weren’t something I did often, but once in a while when out dancing at clubs, I would indulge if they were offered. Patrick was against all drugs except weed. He didn’t even like knowing I had done them in my past, so the few times I took part, I had to hide it from him.
Jacob and I were going back and forth to the bathroom doing lines on the back of the toilet with a dollar bill, and also continuing to drink and chain-smoke all night. The more coke I did, the more I needed to maintain my high. I asked Jacob for the bag, and I went to the bathroom to do another line. I spread it on top of the toilet tank and cut it into a few neat lines with a credit card. I was sick of making trips to the bathroom and worried Patrick would start asking questions, so I wanted to snort enough to maintain a good high for the rest of the night. As I bent over to snort the huge line, I saw my reflection in the giant mirror in front of me. I snorted the first line and then waited a few seconds before I went for the second. As I snorted it, I suddenly saw Patrick’s reflection in the mirror walking into the bathroom. I had stupidly forgotten to lock the door. He saw me, acted surprised, and said, “Oh, sorry,”
During the years of cruising bookstores, my relationship with Patrick became very strained. We had a codependent cycle and neither one could break it because it was comfortable for both of us. I desperately wanted to be taken care of, and Patrick loved being the caretaker. We had a nice life together with two cars, two dogs, and a brand-new house. Life was pretty much perfect, except the fact that we never had sex anymore and had become completely distant emotionally and physically. I was twenty-three when I had met Patrick, and I was now in my late twenties. I had changed as a person and didn’t want to be tied down in a relationship I wasn’t fully invested in. I think Patrick felt this, too, but he didn’t want to admit it. He was used to being the caretaker and liked that role. Without it he seemed lost, and I felt like I was continuing with the relationship simply because we had so much invested, and I didn’t know how to break away. I truly did love him but I knew love wasn’t enough to stay together if things were clearly not working.
One night we were out partying with friends of mine from Jubilee. It took a lot of convincing Patrick to go out with us because he had grown so content with just staying home, working around the house or watching television and relaxing. If we did go out, it was usually to a low-key place where we would have a few beers, play pool, and talk with friends. I was still into going out to clubs, drinking until dawn, going for breakfast, and then passing out around eight or nine in the morning. It was Las Vegas after all. This is how most of us spent our time when we went out. Patrick would put up with it and act like he was having fun, but I knew he wasn’t. We had been out to the popular gay club on the strip called Krave and then headed to a hole-in-the-wall bar called the Buffalo. I was there with my friends Monica, Brent, and Jacob. Jacob had a fresh stash of cocaine and was sharing it freely with everyone. Hard drugs weren’t something I did often, but once in a while when out dancing at clubs, I would indulge if they were offered. Patrick was against all drugs except weed. He didn’t even like knowing I had done them in my past, so the few times I took part, I had to hide it from him.
Jacob and I were going back and forth to the bathroom doing lines on the back of the toilet with a dollar bill, and also continuing to drink and chain-smoke all night. The more coke I did, the more I needed to maintain my high. I asked Jacob for the bag, and I went to the bathroom to do another line. I spread it on top of the toilet tank and cut it into a few neat lines with a credit card. I was sick of making trips to the bathroom and worried Patrick would start asking questions, so I wanted to snort enough to maintain a good high for the rest of the night. As I bent over to snort the huge line, I saw my reflection in the giant mirror in front of me. I snorted the first line and then waited a few seconds before I went for the second. As I snorted it, I suddenly saw Patrick’s reflection in the mirror walking into the bathroom. I had stupidly forgotten to lock the door. He saw me, acted surprised, and said, “Oh, sorry,”
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