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My bucket list is full of daring things that I didn’t even think about doing when I was a sheltered little high school kid. But ever since, I’ve always wanted to meet bomba stars, as they call it. No, not meet as in make out or fondle with them, just meet them outside their workplace aka strip clubs or streets. To see who they really are and if they like what they’re doing.

I just didn’t realize I’d meet a gigolo first instead of a real-life escort. And I didn’t realize that I’d be chummy with the dude and then find his videos on x-tube after months of knowing him.

I can’t really say much about how I met him, where I met him, and what his name is. Just that, well, judging by his life now, no one would ever think that he used to do crack, got deported from his own country, and got convicted for all sorts of crimes before he even reached legal age. Imagine this–meeting a real-life Coco Martin (think: during his Masahista days) but seeing a man who takes care of a kid he considers his own. It’s pretty fucked up, actually, and I still can’t wrap my head on the idea that this man, who’s so polite and decent and passionate about his business, was a gigolo. Who has videos on x-tube.

I guess what I was expecting was a guy who’d jump on the opportunity of having sex with a girl (or a guy, for that matter). Or who’s horny 24/7. There’s no trace of his gigolo days, no trace even that he used to do crack. Now he lives a healthy life, taking care of a kid (who isn’t his own), and loves his partner. Damn, how things can change.

I’m not sure how I’d keep a straight face after what I found out about him. How I’d beso him after seeing his picture, all hollow cheeks from too much crack. But I’m sure that damn, even a gigolo can change. So there goes your excuse not to quit smoking or to straighten up your fucked up life.

Damn, I met a gigolo.

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