As I finished getting dressed for dinner, I could smell something other than Drew’s gourmet cooking wafting through the house. It smelled pungent, almost like marijuana. Was Drew getting stoned? I quickly crossed down the hallway to the living room, seeing Drew standing in the middle of the room waving some kind of burning stick.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Cleaning the room.”

“With dope?”

“It’s a smudge stick, Eric. It’s dried sage. It’s good for cleaning a room.”

“The room is clean.”

“I mean cleaning it spiritually.”

Drew continued to make circles with his arm like a child with a sparkler on the 4th of July.

“Drew, it smells.”

“Isn’t it wonderful?”

I glanced at my watch, realizing Leslie was going to be here any second. “This is a very important dinner, Drew.”

“Which is why I’m doing this,” he mumbled, finally returning to the kitchen where he doused the stick of dried leaves beneath the faucet. I looked over at the kitchen table, seeing it still covered with several of his new age books; most of them by Stella Maguire.

“I know when you discover something new or exciting Drew, you throw yourself into it. But spending hundreds of dollars on new age guru books because you’re feeling spiritual is a bit narcissistic, don’t you think?” Drew continued with the final preparations for dinner with a smile, undeterred, when the doorbell rang. “Okay,” I stated. “That’s him. Look…uh…this dinner means the difference between me having a job or not so please Drew, no weird spiritual stuff okay. Just…be you.”

Drew glanced over at me with a sly grin, “You mean I can’t sacrifice the live chicken I have in the garage during the soup portion of the meal?” I walked away, hearing Drew plead after me, “Eric, relax.”

I opened the door and there was Leslie holding a bottle of champagne and a handsome smile across his face. We greeted each other warmly, Drew obviously swept off his feet by Leslie’s striking looks. “You’re Drew. Geezzzz, he isss a cutie, Eric. Where can I get one?” Drew smiled, but I could tell he was clearly surprised by Leslie’s less than butch nature–particularly since Leslie LOOKED like a stud. “You two have been burning sssomething?”

“Yes,” I quickly interjected. “Drew has been on some kind of spiritual quest lately and burned some kind of sponge stick.”

“Smudge stick!” barked Drew, clearly offended.

“Sssage, right?” Asked Leslie.

I froze but Drew stepped immediately up to the plate. “Yes, Leslie, thank you. It clears the air. I knew how important tonight was for the two of you so I thought it best to welcome you to a clean house.”

“Well, that’sss jussst fabulousss. After all, Eric here is going to be the most famousss man in Wessst Hollywood with the country’s firssst gay sssports clinic.”

He stepped forward to the dinner table, popping open the champagne and pouring it into three water glasses. I looked over at Drew, who was clearly happy for me, but I could tell he was a tad concerned. After all, here I was a confirmed sexaholic becoming the most famous man in West Hollywood.