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Not that I was going to Florida to see him anyway, but I would have liked the fantasy to have stayed in my head a little longer. What a buzzkill, as they say (or used to, anyway). Whoever he really is, he's quite handsome and very appealing.

Then that should make me one of greatest tops on earth.😄 But I just don't have it in me.

I've said previously that I like the new version because the listings provide more info and the photos are larger. So much so that if I see an interesting listing on the current version, I go to the new one to check it out there. But I've recently noticed that the photos in the new version are cropped and maybe somewhat distorted, too; either squashed or stretched. The cropping is especially annoying since I love a handsome man's feet, visible in the current version, "amputated" in the new. I'm beginning to think we'll get a balanced budget before RM gets this upgrade right. Must be harder than I thought.

You don't have to wipe down the machines when you've finished. I got you covered. 😛

As Streisand said in Funny Girl, "Oucha magoucha!"

If you're looking for recommendations from members here based on their experience with one or more particular NYC escort(s), about all that can be said would be along the lines of: he matched his pics, was on time, was clean and sober, delivered what he said he would, and was altogether polite and/or cordial. Past that, the chemistry kicks in to make it very much a case of your milage may vary. The only way to know if you'll like a food you've never had is to put it in your mouth and taste it. No one can do this for you. Check the listings for NYC, filter for any preferences that are important to you, and make a list of candidates. Then come back here to find if any of your picks are duds instead of dudes. Then, take a leap and bon appetit!

I loved Numbers; the one on Sunset. I must have left the LA area before their move to Santa Monica. There was a hustler bar on Santa Monica that I also liked, named Hunter's (7500 block, cross street Gardner), a whole different vibe from Numbers. Numbers had valet parking, one the best steak au poivre I've had anywhere, and a fair number of available and attractive friends-for-rent. I can't remember if this description was used for Numbers or for Rounds in NYC, but it applied equally to both: The place where young entrepreneurs go to meet older financiers. I met a number of young up-and-comers at Numbers and was quite sorry to say goodbye when I moved back East. Good times, good memories!

Me, too. And so convenient, since when with him, I'd be on them.

As the warden said to Cool Hand Luke, "What we got here is failure to communicate."

This sounds like deja-moo to me; I've heard this bull before. I find two aspects of this incident unfathomable. (1) How, armed with only an account number (but not bank name or routing info?), any money could have been withdrawn. If that happened, change banks. Now! (2) That anyone would give this kind of information to someone he's never met, and who contacted him from out of the blue. (Hope he never gets the text that the package he never ordered is ready for delivery; just call this number to confirm personal info to initiate delivery. He sounds like the target market for that scam.) Never give personal info to someone who calls or contacts you. I've had more calls than I can count informing me that my Social Security account has been suspended, or that the FBI is on the way to arrest me now, unless I call this number and make immediate payment. Why don't I just give you my SSN and mother's maiden name, and then you can help yourself? As Gordon Gekko said, "A fool and his money are lucky to have gotten together in the first place." Sorry this happened to your fiancé's friend, but stupid has consequences. I hope this is the beginning of a learning curve, and chalk it up as tuition.

As would I. As long as he brings the balls.

Ah, the bended man who minds the motto: Just do it!

Not, sir, for as long as you live and breathe. Your post is an erudite and polished Apologia, as good or better as some of the best I've ever encountered. I am sorry for the lack of consideration you've experienced from others, and hope I did not join that company in my joking -and perhaps clumsy- attempt to explain the dichotomy in reports of interactions between you and actual or would-be clients. Your expression of a personal viewpoint and perspective is welcomed and appreciated. To echo the above poster's sentiment, Bravo!

Sad to hear. Handsome, hunky man. I first saw him in Hair, but loved him even more in The Ritz, which was set in a NYC bath house. A hilarious movie with lots of Treat in just a towel.

Can I have an AMEN!, brothers and sisters?

Boxer or brief?🥱

The new Stu (Jake) is certainly a handsome man with delicious muscles. But like many others, I prefer the younger Stu. Even then and less developed, still a body fit for worship. But that face and that smile were uplifting and infectious. It really looked like he was having fun. (I know I was watching him.) And in his sex scenes he had an intensity and dominance that could drive me crazy. Thankfully, lots of the old Stu's vids are available on sites like Pornhub.

Has anyone attempted to correlate experiences with phases of the moon? May be a Jeckel/Hyde thing here?

I can, and the ones I do it for deserve it. Clarence Darrow said [although frequently wrongly attributed to Mark Twain] I have never wished anyone dead, but have read several obituaries with great satisfaction. I have done both - for the likes of Falwell and Robertson - and will do so again for other figures of our day when they're laid to rest at Mar-a-Lardo or under the bluegrass of that old Kentucky home. And as a Virginian, I am appalled and mystified that the Commonwealth was infected with both of these religious vermin, and breathe a little easier today in spite of our current Canadian Haze. Listening to the hateful and ignorant spewing's posted above reinforces the vile heads and hateful hearts of this horrible man and all his ilk.

To imitate what Bette Davis said on learning of Joan Crawford's passing, speaking only good of the dead: Pat Robertson is dead. Good.

Reminds me of Santa Monica Blvd in the "good ole days."

It was a joke. The first city I visited in the UK was Edinburgh. I was looking to cross Princes Street near the Scott Monument, and to make sure it was safe to cross, I looked to my left, as I would back home. All clear. Then, just before stepping into the street, I glanced to the right and saw what must have been half of Scotland motoring toward me. Ahh yes, said I to myself, they do it on the left here! Seeing the painted markings reminded me of someone's criticism of a stupid plan for a government program as being about as smart as the UK making a gradual transition from left side driving to right side driving, implemented by having all those with last names beginning with A thru H switching to the right on Monday, and all others transitioning the following Monday. Clearly a recipe for chaos, and the painted markings reminded me of the observation. This is sometimes how my mind works. It isn't always pretty.🙄

He could fiddle with me anytime!

He must have taken Would you like that supersized? to heart.

In the days before RentMen, when you sought talent in bars that catered to the trade, I met and hooked up with a handsome, well-endowed young man who was agreeable to driving to my place, then about an hour's drive from the city. Later he would call to see if I was interested, and I'd invite him to come down from DC. Then, he began showing up unannounced and uninvited, expecting a "session" and full payment. He did this twice. The second -and last- time, I simply told him he needed to find an ATM closer to home because this one is now closed. Never saw him again.