I love Sam Adams. I don’t know a lot about him as a politician, or a Mayor. I basically voted for “Hot and Gay” when I voted for him. I usually care more about the issues than that, but he…. is hot and gay. I’ve never had the chance to vote for someone hot and gay. And when hot, gay politicians run amuck on ballots all over, than I will more carefully examine their politics, but this time around, that’s all I needed to know in order to vote for Sam.
And then he took office. And, like, 5 days into his term he announced that he had had an affair with an intern. -Which didn’t surprise me. If I had interns, I would totally do them. That’s like a sign that you’re successful, you have fuckable interns. And for a couple of days, all Hell broke loose. The media went crazy. The homophobes who hadn’t voted for Sam anyway, wanted to recall him, or wanted him to resign. And the people who had voted for him, didn’t give a shit, and just wanted him to get them back to work. All those people congregated on the steps of City Hall, with signs and yelling and sleeping bags. For three days. And Sam was embarrassed and he hid in his house. Until Dan Savage came down from Seattle and said “It’s normal to hide, Sam, we would do that too. But you need to come out and go back to work.” And the cops came and told all of the people who love and hate gays to stop yelling at each other on the steps of City Hall. And Sam came back to work and it seemed like the circus was over.
Which is when the investigation started.
See, the problem is not that Sam had an affair with an intern. He’s gay, he’s not married. But he’s an older gay man, who is still hot, and has a lot of power. So (naturally) the intern he chose was a young, hot gay boy. Who had just recently turned 18. The homophobes who didn’t vote for him yelled “Child abuse!” and the investigation has been on the news for the last ten months.
Personally, I’m kinda glad that the scandal happened. If I have to hear about who my politicians are fucking, I want everyone involved to be hot. I mean, I have to think about “when and where did their first kiss take place?” (In a men’s bathroom, after their first meeting) I want my mental picture of that first meeting to be AMAZING. Instead of gross. Like with Clinton. Monica was not bad looking. But Bill was no Sam Adams. I mean, I never really got the Bill appeal.It was all just really, really gross to me. Sam is not gross. Sam is adorable.
I, like most straight women who occasionally hag for fags, love gay porn. In fact, I prefer it. Mostly because straight porn is not made for me. It’s made for dudes. And the men in straight porn are compensated better than the women. And basically, the sex industry uses women and then treats them like shit. So I’ve almost exclusively watched gay porn, in my life. The only thing that made me reconsider that decision was Battlestar Galactica. The invisible robot-sex was mind-blowing.
So, I have a penchant for gay porn. It is simultaneously hilarious and hot-as-fuck to me. And a movie, starring Sam Adams and Beau Breedlove (seriously, right?) has been playing over and over in my head for ten months. And it’s totally fucking sexy. And it’s totally fucking funny, the way that sex that you’re not involved in always is. And I’ve been soooo grateful to the news, and the homophobes because that Sam-Beau-porn that I play when they say “The Investigation blah blah blah” is still as awesome now as when the scandal first broke. It never gets old. These boys are delicious.
So a few weeks ago, I was at Cafe Nell’s One year anniversary, with my typewriter, and I was typing up a storm, selling cards. And Sam was there. With an entourage. I was so excited. At that point, I had a gaggle of people around my typewriter, reading my cards and laughing and telling stories about their own sexual misadventures, while I hyper-ventilated. “Omygod! Ohmygod! I want to write him a card. Is it Ok if I make him a card?” I was so flustered I schreeched a little. My people were drunk. Drunk people are always supportive of terrible ideas. “Fuck yeah! You should make him a card. I’ll take it over to him if you do.” a blond chick said. Somehow the way she said it turned the simple offer into a double-dog-dare. I always do the dare. That sealed it. So I made Sam this card. And then the blond chick brought it over to him. I was too embarrassed to look, so the other kids crowded around my table gave me the play by play. “Oh, she gave it to him! Oh, he’s laughing!” I was wincing. I felt really tacky. I mean, probably everyone is talking to him about the goddamn scandal. He’s probably so sick of hearing about it. It probably totally sucks for him to go outside, because everyone wants to talk to him about what his dick was doing a few years ago.
But I still wanted to convey to him that I am soooo grateful to him for the hours of gay porn he and Beau Breedlove’s brief affair have given me. I don’t think I can exactly explain all that in a card. It was hard enough to do it in this long-ass blog entry. But I think that you guys got the idea, right? When the blond chick came back, she was strutting, like she had just won the dare. I guess we both won the dare. “He was a little taken aback at first, but after I showed him the cards I bought, he got that that’s just the way you write. And then he thanked me, and he thought it was funny.” She said airily. I smiled. I was glad she gave him some context. I would have totally fucked it up.
Later on, I was having a smoke outside the event, just as he was saying goodbye to Daren, who owns Cafe Nell. “I’m Alisa Starr. I made the card for you.” I held out my hand. His gorgeous eyes lit up and he pulled it out of his pocket. “Did you see this card?” He asked Daren, who read it and squealed. I smiled, dazzled. “I’m glad you like it!” I said shyly. He leaned over and kissed my cheek. “I love it. Thank you!” then some cute boy pulled up to the curb and whisked him away.
It was magical. And now I’ll vote Hot and Gay for the rest of my life.