We love New York Magazine’s “Daily Intelligencer” because, once a week, it allows us to look into the lives of our fellow New Yorkers without plummeting off a fire escape or the prospect facing potential jail time. This week, we’re introduced to a self-described “Hispanic-American” who lives with his boyfriend and… kind of reminds us exactly of us. Weird and wondrous:

2:20 p.m.: While working on an article from home, my mind wanders to last night’s activities. He’s a white boy with a swimmer’s build and a southern charm. I’m a Hispanic-American with a penchant for tattoos and stylish clothes. We’re hot together. Erection.

3 p.m.: Xtube surfing for the last 40 minutes. Finally decide on military men with tattoos.

Oh sweet tres leches on a tranny, Nameless Tattooed Hispanic-American! You’re just like us! Can we peer creepily into your life a little more, please?:

11 a.m.: Boyfriend wakes me up with kisses on the neck.

3:15 p.m.: After an enjoyable day of brunch and shopping with Boyfriend, we part ways: He, to his job. Me, to the nearest sex shop to buy poppers.

Who. Are. You?! Uncanny. And, perhaps most telling:

Total: Zero acts of intercourse; one failed blow job; one act of 69; five acts of porn masturbation; one act of non-porn masturbation; one itchy manscaping attempt; one Larry Craig men’s-room fantasy; seven morning happy pills.

It’s like looking into a mirror. Except not smeared with frosting or nicked by a particularly stubborn pair of handcuffs.

The Self-Servicing Waiter [New York Magazine]
Earlier: Predators Without Borders: East Village Male Gives/Is Given A Lot Of Lip