I’m going through my closet to see if there’s anything I should get rid of—of course there are those three coats at the end that I only ever wore for turning tricks, passably masculine in the way that’s the only way for tricks, or 99 percent of gay men, but that’s another story. In every pocket of these three coats, there are Maxx condoms and little packets of ID lube. But the treasure is definitely a yellowed strip of paper ripped from the back page of the Village Voice from December 30, 1997. On top of ads for PARK SLOPE FLEA MARKET, WILD STRIPPER GRAMS, Wireless Telephone Inc., LEE’s Transvestite Boutique, and several missed connections, I’ve written the number for the night’s business transaction, a penthouse on East 39th. Of course, over the years, I would have used and then discarded hundreds or even thousands of pieces of paper just like this, but this is one of the few that will end up in the archives.