"So, you are here to audition for my movies," Mr. S said to me as I entered the living room to the hotel suite. He was the director of Ruby Bulb films, and I’d been waiting for weeks to see him, as he only gave two auditions a day. I could tell which one was the big director immediately when I came into the room, as he was a Big Daddy Warbucks type, all height and big bones and muscles, and no hair. The other two men in the room were holding movie cameras and were looking a little disheveled and disinterested. Mr. S. was all smiles and hearty handshakes and shoulder pats, the type of man who made you keep your hand on your wallet whenever you were within ten feet of him.

I answered that, indeed, I was here to audition for his movies.

"And you know these are gay art films, don’t you?" he continued. "There’s a ton of money for actors to make in these films. They can lead to the big movie world. Why, did you know . . . ," and he was reeling off the names of several name-brand actors who had started in this segment of the industry only to rise to the big screen.

I wagged my head agreeably, trying to keep up with him and present him my best profile all at the same time.

"And why do you think these are the films for you?" he was asking.

"My boyfriend pushed me to take this audition," I was saying, a little nervously. "He said I’d be a natural for it."

"Your boyfriend?" Mr. S. said with a little bit of a sour look. "Well, that’s a start at least," he continued somewhat more jovially. "At least it wasn’t a girlfriend." And then he laughed a hearty laugh. "Well, put those application forms over on that desk and strip down over there and then come back over here."

"Strip? Here, now?" I stammered.

"This is the audition, Son. You did say that you understood that these were gay porn films? You can’t audition in your clothes. Don’t worry, this should only take fifteen or twenty minutes. We’ll have to put an audition scene on tape so that I have something to work with when I’m casting."

I looked a little dubious and not just a little embarrassed. He was right, though. What had I thought would go into an audition for male porn films? I went over and put my applications down on the desk and started to strip, neatly folding my clothes on the desk chair.

"Oh, and there’s a release form for you to sign for the screen test tape there on the desk," Mr. S said as he walked over to a sofa. "You’ll even be paid $50 just for being permitted to try out."

When I had stripped, I turned and walked toward the sofa. Mr. S. was standing in front of the sofa. He’d stripped down to his jockey shorts.

"You?" I said, a big lump forming in my throat. "I’ll be auditioning with you?"

"Yes, of course," Mr. S. answered. "I like to know exactly what my actors can and cannot do. Oh, and call me Rolf. We’re going to get to know each other much too well for formalities."

Why should I be surprised, I thought. Tales of the casting couch were legendary in this town.

"Well, aren’t you the nice looker?" Rolf said to me as I