Mark is a single, gay Cuban-American living in New York—a city some say is the toughest place in America to be single. After a few false starts, he’s finally ready to go out and meet the guy of his dreams. But, first, he’d like a little bit of friendly help from Guanabee. We’ll send him to a gym, give him some style tips, get him a new outfit and turn him into Prince Charming by Valentine’s Day. So join Associate Editor Alex Alvarez as she and Guanabee help Mark get a new look, a new perspective and, hopefully, a hot new Argentine boyfriend. Because everyone could use a Marcover now and again. Your life depends on it. No pressure, though.

Our good friend-like person, Mark, is recovering from his surgery quite nicely. And by quite nicely, I mean he’s slowly losing the will to live. Oh noes! Fortunately, resignation tastes a lot like yogurt-covered pretzels. So, hey. How was your New Year’s Eve, my little morsel of yogurt-dribbled goodness?:

Well, it’s not every guy who gets an invitation to my secret champagne jacuzzi room. Which got me wondering what type of guy, exactly, would Mark allow to dip a toe in his jacuzzi. So to speak.

Whoa, whoa. What? Who said anything about fathers? We were referring exclusively to daddies, papi.

Anyway, here’s some advice from a straight-ish, female-ish person, so take it for what it’s worth (a lot):

Mark. You’ve got to go after what you want, no matter what that may be, with both hands and a bottle of (water-based) lube. Once you’ve fully recovered from the surgery and you’re back in fighting form, we’ll head out to a bar, chat up a few guys and see what happens. Or you will, and I’ll play Wing-Girl. Unless there are shots involved. In which case, I’ll be your Floor-Girl. But I can be a conversation piece and that’ll help break the ice. Right? Sure. Anyway. Point is, you’ve been working out, watching what you eat and taking care of yourself. And that’s all great. But it’s time to show the world the fruits of your labor. Because, Mark, trust me when I say the world is thirsting for your fruit. Thirsting. For it.

But maybe my advice and good wishes just aren’t enough. (I seriously doubt this.) Maybe you need advice that’s more gay. Or from someone who knows what he’s talking about. Or who isn’t drunk right now.

Let’s see. Who would be able to sit down with Mark and navigate him through the tangled undergrowth of the modern, gay dating world? Who can help Mark get into the proper frame of mind to go out and meet new guys? It would have to be someone with personal, first-hand knowledge on the subject. Someone understanding. Someone compassionate. Someone smart.

Someone totally, completely, friggin’ hot.

Other than myself.

Ah! I know just the man for the job.

So don’t you worry, my little tickleplums. We’ve tackled the physical; now we’re going to Marcover the inside.

And, baby, you’re going to like it.