I got the book out from the library again because I wanted to refresh my memory about exactly how funny this book is. Now I am half-way through the darn thing again and I do not – repeat do not EVER – read books or see movies twice. Life’s too short. This guy, though, this Isaac Oliver, a swishing queen of a New York City homosexual really is – as the book jacket promises – as funny as David Sedaris, Tina Fey, and Augusten Burroughs would be if they all got together for shots. Wouldn’t that be a trip?

But you don’t need that to happen You have Isaac. He calls himself an idiot when it comes to intimacy, but by the 5th page, it’s clear he’s no idiot. He’s smart and he’s brazen, but he’s afraid of his own boldness. He’s funnier ‘n shit and that’s the way he sees everything – from the rats in the subway to the guy he met on Grindr who likes to dress up as a dolphin. If he has not been able to solidify a relationship, it’s not for lack of brains .. or trying. He thinks too much and maybe he tries too hard, but by the time I finished the book (the first time) I wanted to track him down and go out on the town with him.

He writes about casual sex, serious sex, food, lipstick,funerals, and MoMA. There’s a chapter on how to build a fire (in thirty easy steps) and, a favorite of mine, a little note he writes in his mind to a one-night stand: “To the gentleman who made me hide in the closet so he could pay his cleaning lady: First of all, she totally saw me. Second, that’s all you pay her?”

Why have I heard so little about Isaac Oliver?

I’m going to Google him right now. Maybe he’s free for a cocktail later.