Driving down Santa Monica Boulevard on Sunday I was saddened to see a coffee shop had closed and sat empty. It had been a place where one could meet street hustlers taking a break from their appointed corners. But this was years ago, and I confess that I did nothing to keep this coffee shop going. Perhaps if the boys were still out I might have. I was what they called a "gas queen." That was a guy who drove up and down the street just looking. It was great fun. The time was 1980 and 1981, and the boys were abundant. I am not talking street trash either. Really hot guys would just hop in your car, a deal was quickly agreed to. I lived nearby so there were no back alleys or back seat blow jobs. One had to make a quick decision once the guy got in the car- was he safe, clean, promising a good time? One guy I picked wouldn't take the chewing gum out of his mouth when he blew me. I had to insist. Another guy was the spitting image of a guy I had lusted after for years. He was great fun, but after he showered I still made him put his smelly shoes outside. And we did usually shower first. Prices were a lot lower then too. $35- $50 would do. If you wanted fancy, you could go to the old Numbers on Sunset Boulevard and pay more. You usually got more attitude too. The street guys had their concerns too. The biggest one was whether I was a cop. Many were under the mis-impression that if they asked, a cop had to tell the truth. One guy got in the car, and quickly and insistently demanded that I rub his crotch. That was his test for a cop, because he was sure a cop wouldn't touch his crotch. I wouldn't either because he was so insistent that I didn't like his nervousness. Who else would refuse to touch a cute guy's crotch? My guess is that there are others here with good Santa Monica stories. It would be nice if you would share them too. The internet has changed the scene forever, or so it seems. So the way to relive it is if others add to the tale.