However I found myself in such a circumstance recently when a close friend and I went clubbing one night to farewell the man who I now regard as “Pharaoh of the Virile Males”. ‘Pharaoh’ was returning back home to New York City and his bevy of beefcake were all invited to wish him farewell.
Here was a solid, middle-aged man of European descent, not particularly blessed with good looks surrounded by men as young as 19 and no older than 26 who seemed to praise and adore him and his every move. Amongst the kisses, suggestive gyrating hip-grinding and lingering hugs, I stood dumbfounded at how this man acquired such a following. Surely in any other circumstance, Pharaoh would not have been given the time of day by any of these boys, but here as the music pulsated he was being worshipped.
What made Pharaoh so interesting? Why were throngs of young men throwing themselves at him? Did he play Sugar Daddy in return for sexual favours? Was he well connected in both Melbourne and New York? Did he supply them with quality nose candy for their nights out? Did he boost their esteem and stroke their ego (among other things) in a way that only he knew they responded to? I would be inclined to suggest that all or some of these were applicable.
But all I could think was - How come he didn’t have any friends his own age? Was he surrounding himself with these fine young specimens as a snap response to Peter Pan syndrome? Or was it to provoke responses such as mine? I couldn’t tell. I had to find out.
After we left the club, I asked my friend how he came to befriend Pharaoh. It was revealed that he was introduced to Pharaoh a few years back by an ex (who was 20 at the time) who was extremely enthusiastic about introducing my friend to Pharaoh. The reason behind the enthusiastic introduction was never disclosed.
But soon as greater details were revealed, it became evident that these young men were all interconnected by sexual relationships that they’d had with each other at some point or another, and at the helm was none other than Pharaoh. His involvement and exact reasoning behind his presence was never pinpointed and even now it remains a mystery. But you could be forgiven to think he was a pimp or the “go to” man for these young specimens of masculinity who were looking to get connected in whatever way possible.
In the end, Pharaoh, much like those of Ancient Egypt, remained a mystery to me. Now back in New York, I have to wonder whether he has a harem of nubile young men that surround him in the clubs of SoHo, Greenwich Village and Chelsea or whether he comes back down to Earth and continues life as any other overweight, 40-something man in Manhattan. I guess I will never know.
Now you’ll have to excuse me, my young, virile and buff Ancient Roman guards have finished peeling the 4000 grapes I asked for and are about to bathe me in a honey and milk bath...