The Fabulous Life of . . . Congressional Super Pages!

Lately I’ve been thinking that I would have been more successful professionally and sexually if  someone had taken me under his wing during my formative teen years.  More specifically, I’m disheartened that, as a growing boy, nobody ever thought to prey on me.

At first, I thought the problem was just technological: the internet hadn’t yet made it to the Midwest so I couldn’t go into chat rooms for young teens and obviously it was like millennia before the myspace era.  But then I saw The History Boys this week and found out that sexual predators were around in the 1980s too!  Clearly my priorities were not in line – I was more interested in the fall of the Berlin Wall (seriously) than getting laid (I didn’t learn what the phrase “suck my dick” meant until 8th grade . . . if only . . . ).  So I didn't go to prep school like some people; does that mean  I should have a stale sex life?  What.  The.  Eph. 

Meanwhile, I also learned this week that had I explored my interest in politics at an earlier age and come to work in DC as a Congressional Page, I, too, could have met my future powerbroker husband.  I mean, just because I wasn't an athletic lacrosse playing flirt doesn't mean I didn't deserve to get hit on by older men in high school.  Instead of the hallowed walls of the Capital, I only got hit on (slash whorishly wasted) in the dark rooms of Apex and Cobalt.  Classy. 

Couldn't Dateline have at least enlisted me in its fight to catch predators?  Now I’m on my way to becoming a young professional and have missed my chance.    No older closeted men hit on 25 year olds these days; prepubescents are all the rage. 

So what to do?  My stalkerish college Shakespeare professor sent me an email over the weekend asking me if I’m in town to catch up . . . only withered, old, and scholarly isn’t so much what I was thinking as handsome, powerful, and well-connected.  As Kevin D. taught me, when the going gets tough, there’s always Craigs List.

Comments

[Old Fagat]

A couple of things:

One, it took us years to get over the crew team gang showers at the boathouse. We'll never have it that good again.

Two, aren't you no longer "in residence"? Or a "twink" for that matter"

[New Fagat]

We swear we read this after we posted today. Didn't mean to plagiarize.