In the span of three years I lost three of my closest confidants to AIDS. Brian was the last in 1991.
We were not partners but we were both hypersexual so on occasion, out of necessity, we’d shag. Though we were never mushy. We loved to cause trouble and we were good at it.
The pictures of him passed out are from 1982 on the night I returned from my first trip to Europe. My friend Giorgio had given me two beautiful bottles of ancient Chianti. He insisted they were purely ornamental, they’d gone bad years ago.
Brian never met an order he couldn’t defy. We drank them both that night.
Previous: Life at Buzzby’s
The complete saga, From the Beginning.