Gay for Pay: Are there really any straight men in gay porn?

It seemed like the perfect event for a girl like me: the Castro Theatre, approximately 1,600 hot men in Armani and Prada, and possibly five other women in the whole packed house. Kathy Griffin, one of those five women and the host of last Saturday's 2007 GayVN Awards (a.k.a. the "gay-porn Oscars") was clearly feeling the same way. In her opening monologue she exclaimed, "Someone pinch me on the nipple. I hope I never have to wake up."

I was in total agreement -- We were the few! The proud! The girls! All those glamorous hot men smiling at me and getting me drinks and complimenting me -- and none of them poised to do more than flirt shamelessly and whisper sexily in my ear that I had matched the right purse with my outfit. Little did I think that when I took a breather from the hours-long awards ceremony, one of the gay-porn stars -- or, actually, a "gay-for-pay" porn star -- would nearly take Kathy seriously and cross the lines of play-flirting to wake me from my Big Gay Al's reverie.

The Castro was at capacity despite the rain, and the establishment maintained crowd control by herding people who needed air into the side alleys. The minute I stepped outside for some "fresh air" (with the smokers), Mr. Gay for Pay made a beeline for me, instantly getting photographers to take pictures of us together. I introduced myself, and after a quick exchange of names, he said, "Hey, let's go over there and make out." I said, "Uh, no." He pushed to kiss me, then went away, before coming back and trying to get me to go off into a corner with him, this time with more urgency.

I found myself shocked at a gay-porn event -- no minor thing, that -- by being on the receiving end of classic, aggressive, straight-male predatory behavior. "A womanizer at the GayVN's!" I thought. How crass, how inappropriate -- how interesting for my first encounter with a gay-for-pay performer.

I somehow thought reminding him of being gay for pay in front of everyone would make him leave me alone and so I asked, "Don't you have a girlfriend?!" He said, "Yes, and -- hey, baby -- she's on the East Coast." I asked, "Doesn't she care?" Smugly -- and sleazily -- he replied, "Nope." His next volley was "making sure" I was going to the after-party, at which point I turned to the man nearest me -- imagine my luck, he was gorgeous -- and said, "Help." In half a heartbeat, the cute boy stepped up as my date, saying, "She's with me." We shared a giggle as he turned to Gay for Pay and stated, "We've been together for 13 years." Then, as my new boyfriend and I walked away, we tried to remember Mr. Gay for Pay's name.

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