Firstly, apologies for the alias, but I sometime feel I reveal too much of myself as it is on these boards when I share my thoughts or experiences – this is one of them.

I’ve recently been updating my iPod with music and decided to create a new playlist featuring sentimental favorites (yeah, I’m a sap).  One of the songs that I decided to include is Whitney Houston’s “I Will Always Love You” (yeah, okay…I’m a double sap).  That particular song brings to my mind, one particular memory (both sweet and sad) from my time as a hobbyist.

In 1992, when I was a very young lad and the hobbying scene in DC was mostly confined to the street walkers around the Thomas Circle area, I found myself alone during one particularly rough period in my life.  This down period in my life was not the result of any specific trauma or loss, but it was just one of those moments that I think many of us find ourselves in when we are maybe just a little bit disconnected from the world (even family and friends) for whatever reason and the world is just a blur, without any real form or color.  I was somewhat of a regular visitor to the Thomas Circle scene in those days – although I mostly went to just look and take in the scene since my income at the time didn’t really allow me to be a more involved hobbyist (it’s a little sad, I know).  When I did happen to have the funds to engage with one of those street walkers, those sessions were (predictably in hindsight) generally unsatisfying and it was all about the act and nothing else.  One moment did however, stand out.

During one dreary, cold and rainy winter evening, I picked up a young African American girl as I thought she was pretty and didn’t look as cheap and tawdry as many of the other girls out there (this statement is not meant to demean the other girls as I’m certainly not in any position to judge others, but it’s basically to describe why I decided to picked her up).  It looked like she was still young and new, and the "business" hadn’t gotten to her yet so that she didn’t have that hardened look.  We went to a cheap no-name hotel where I rented a room for our time together.  There was a TV in the room so we turned it on for some back-ground noise and the TV was already tuned to a channel showing music videos.  As we were in the process of taking off our clothes and chit-chatting (that was pretty much it for foreplay or GFE service in those days), the music video for the Whitney Houston song came on.  For whatever reason, we both just stopped and watched the video.  I recall seeing my companion’s face soften (maybe it was just my imagination) and despite our surroundings and the reason we were both there, I remember feeling a connection with her.  I remember that session being very tender and not like other sessions that I’ve had.  I really can’t explain it as it wasn’t as if we did anything that would be considered a GFE experience these days (for example, there was definitely no kissing or DATY), but it was more than just “wham bam, thank you ma’am.”  I remember that the pretty features of her face were framed by her lush dark and curly hair.  Her skin felt soft and silken at the same time, and her petite lithe body and limbs (especially her extraordinary legs) were smooth and taut possessing that wonderful suppleness that young bodies have…it was an almost decadently sinful pleasure to hold and caress her.   The beautiful dark caramel color of her complexion was breath-taking and I just felt like I wanted to take her in with all my senses.  

Don’t get me wrong, there was no profound, life-altering affect from that session or moment (I never even saw that girl again, although I did look for her).  It wasn’t as if my life started to change afterwards, or that I started to be a better person, or that I even started to have better sessions…although it did result in me pursuing and dating women of color for a while (I am not African American).  It was just one of those small moments of my life that vividly pops back into my head whenever I happen to hear that song or see the video.  While that fleeting memory brings a little smile to my face, I also get a little sad thinking about that moment and time in my life.

Anyway, I’m sure I’m not alone here and many other hobbyist have similar moment or memories from their time hobbying…for what it’s worth, I just thought I would share one of mine.