Jamie

26 August 2002

Dear Kevin

It was so good to get your letter and learn the truth, at last, about the episode with your Latino bellboy in Los Angeles.

Rest assured that, if ever I hear another word said against you regarding that particular incident, I'll be the first to stand up on your behalf.

But, speaking of standing up, as it were, I expect you want to hear what's been happening here in Bogota lately, don't you?

Well, first of all let me tell you that the house is virtually finished now. The last part was the re-tiling of the pool. That should have taken just two or three days - but the guy's been here more than a week so far.

If you could see him, you'd understand why.

It turns out he used to come here a lot in the old days when it was a good way for the local boys to meet patrons. The older guys would look after the boys with cigarettes and beer to start with, then maybe a few nice meals and, if the boys were really good, some smart clothes or simply money.

Of course, in return the boys were expected to look after their patrons' needs which, when you get down to it - as, I'm told, the boys often had to do - were really quite basic.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, the tiling guy is currently lounging at the poolside, rather than retiling it, and looking so darned hot that, if I cut this letter a little shorter than usual, you'll appreciate the reason why my attention's been distracted elsewhere.

With the house finished now, I've given it a name.

Originally I'd planned on something smart and sophisticated.

Villa Minelli.

Or maybe Streisand Towers.

But in the end, if I wanted the mail - and the males - to come to the right place, I thought it was just simpler to stick with the existing name everyone around here uses.

Casa Chicos.

The House of Boys.

Apart from the tiling guy, the newest regular visitor I seem to have acquired is a hot little number called Jamie - though I always think of him as Audi Boy.

I awarded him that name because of the baseball cap with the Audi logo that he wears all the time. In fact, sometimes the easiest way to tell all the kids who come here apart is by their caps - which are red-hot fashion items in this country.

So instead of trying to recall who's Carlos, who's Xavier and who's Manuel, I just think of them in terms of their headgear.

As well as Audi Boy, there's New York Boy, Nike Boy and Coca-Cola Boy.

And, if you want a good time but are a bit short on cash, I'd certainly put in a good word for Wal-Mart Boy.

Anyway, whereas many of the kids act shy and reserved at first, Audi Boy just got straight to the point.

And, if he'd wanted to attract my attention, he couldn't have chosen a better way to do it.

Mind you, I guess he had arrived at the poolside just a little overdressed

It wasn't too long, though, before, he looked far more at home.

And, as he kept looking across at me, it was clear that he wanted to get better acquainted.

Far better acquainted.

But, deeply engaged as I was with McDonalds Boy (I was exploring his chicken McNuggets at the time, I seem to remember) I made my new visitor work really hard to get my attention.

And, boy, did he try…

Ten out of ten for effort, that's for sure…

Of course, any guy would have had to have been a saint - or Pat Buchanan - to have resisted.

So, having finished my McDonalds, I decided on a desert and moved across to Audi Boy's side of the pool to explore further.

In a rare moment of modesty, he pulled his underwear part way back on for just a moment and turned over so his butt was facing me.

I was smitten.

But, once again, I couldn't help noticing his cap.

And then I realised.

It didn't say AUDI at all.

It said A - U - D - I.

And, for once, it seemed that Jamie - or, at least, his headgear - was speaking to me in English.

And in an unmistakably inviting acronym.

Any Underwear??? Discard Immediately!!!

Getting back to Audi Boy, it's gotta be said that he isn't necessarily one of the prettiest kids on the block.

But he makes up for that with sheer chutzpah.

The first time he arrived here he just sat down at the poolside without even speaking to me. Instead of an uninvited guest, you'd have thought he must be the owner.

You might also think that was a bit impolite of him not at least to have said hello. But, to be fair, I had both my hands and mouth full at the time with McDonalds Boy's exceptionally juicy quarter pounder - thankfully without any cheese - though that's another story.