78

“Maybe by not trying I was successful. I went to
“gay bars,” used phony'names and picked as many
as a dozen guys a week. I didn’t care where I had
them—their places, mine, in the cans, up dark alleys.
As long as I got my piece.

“I never monkeyed around the students though.
Not that they didn’t interest me. I'd stand in that
classroom looking down at their hot crotches and
wondered what they had inside. What they’d do if I
got them into my room, stripped them and went at
it. Some of them were damned good looking, mature
too. If you know what I mean.

“But I had enough going for me so that leaving
them alone wasn’t tough. I had a car. I'd drive to
nearby towns. I knew the parks, the bars, the bus
stations. I had an address book a mile long, packed
with tricks from ‘drag queens’ to rough trade, old
~aunties, little nellie queens that stayed home with
mother. Plus a private list of truck drivers with their
routes and what signals to give when I wanted to
flag them down. They’d stop the trucks. We’d jump
in the back, and I'd give them what they wanted.
They take it anally—something to do with their
occupation.

“Man, they loved it. Life was too good and too
easy. Wouldn’t you know that I'd get caught by the