I was in Los Angeles this past May on business. When possible I stay with a friend, Nancy, who lives in Pasadena, just east of L.A. proper. It saves on hotels and she doesn't mind since her husband's a pilot and often away on long trips. Also, she works in L.A. so I would commute with her.

One evening we were going to meet her friend Laura on the way to dinner. Laura's a real estate agent and wanted to check out a new listing that her agency had just gotten.

We started after 6 pm from Pasadena and were getting close to the destination when her GPS blanked out and wouldn't restart. We pulled over, called for further directions and found we were less than a mile away so we drove on looking for the street name.

Eventually I learned that Gale lives in a rather historic neighborhood, but the boulevard, leading to his street isn't very impressive. We spotted the street and drove a very short distance, maybe a couple of houses, before Nancy saw Laura standing by her car. I remember glancing around, generally taking in the area and thinking it smelled of pine trees but I couldn't see any, just regular trees and a few very tall palms.

We went into the house, chatted with Laura and started to look around. The layout was very open, no furniture, beautiful dark cherry floors and lots of windows. Everything was painted white. We roamed around as Laura took pictures and notes, and told us that the house was on the market because it had been a bank foreclosure. I think the asking price was approximately 750,000 dollars.

We went up to the top floor of the house and while Nancy and Laura talked I stood by one of the windows and looked out towards the next house which was fairly close. A light was on near the back of the house on a lower floor but there wasn't much else to see except it's dark roof, chimneys and vents. About ten minutes later we went downstairs and into the backyard which was now quite shaded and pretty. Laura took pictures and Nancy and I wandered around. I noticed mostly shrubbery and lots of trees but no flowers. Within a couple of minutes outside in the early twilight a mosquito got me and then another; they love me. The weather was beautiful though so we stayed outside, swatting and scratching. Through the trees I noticed that the house next door had some laid stone paths in the backyard lit by tiny ground lights, and that the light I had glimpsed upstairs was coming from inside the back entrance of this other house. We both felt kind of nosey but what else was there to do?

Laura came over to check out what we were looking at and said she wished she was selling that house rather than this one. I asked why because they really looked very similar. She said it was bigger with a better floor plan, a larger lot, would sell for more money and then, with a little giggle, "Gale Harold lives there." At that moment my heart stopped, I'm absolutely sure it did. Neither one of them knew of my addiction and I certainly wasn't about to say anything. Nancy asked who Gale Harold was and was told he was an actor from the Queer as Folk series and was now in Desperate Housewives. Even then she'd never heard of him or QAF but Laura said he was "a beautiful hunk" (her words). I barely managed to say I knew who he was but also how did she know he actually lived there. She said through her real estate records: owners on both sides, acreage, last valuation, and that, "you need to know who the neighbors are". All the while I was getting bitten to death and staring through the trees at "his" house. My heart had resumed beating, at a rapid rate, the sky was turning a beautiful pink and deep blue color and "he" might be next door........that I do remember.

Before I knew it, since I was lost in absent minded reverie, we were going out to the street again and immediately my head snapped around to look at his house from the front. Now it was the most beautiful house I'd ever seen. Laura noticed me staring and said that if he suddenly came out she'd introduce herself as the agent selling the house next door. She was serious! I told her she probably shouldn't but she said it was a common courtesy to the neighbors who would see her bringing people to show the place. He didn't come out, if he was there at all, but now there was a light on the second floor in a light tan colored room. A large tropical plant in the corner had an up-light playing on it. I could now see that his house was probably larger and it had a little enclosed porch/veranda on the second level. There were no lights by the front door or lower level. For one mad, brief and fleeting moment I had the urge to run over and knock loudly on the door; but it passed.

We got in the cars and slowly moved down the road and away from Paradise.

The Mexican restaurant we went to was in his neighborhood, only blocks away so I sat there thinking maybe he'd pop in for a quick drink or dinner. Obviously I'd gone completely and permanently insane. There was a little more conversation about him and I told Nancy that she should watch QAF because it was a very interesting show and that Laura was correct, he was a hunk.

I don't know if Nancy has watched the show or if Laura has introduced herself (maybe another story), but the next time I'm there, in a few weeks, I'll certainly ask. And, maybe Nancy will have become a fan and I can reveal my true identity, "Cwazy Gale Fangurl". Fingers crossed.

Cwazy