confessions of an accidental go-go boy
By Will Wikle
Photographed by Marco Ovando
A little over a decade ago, I stepped off a Greyhound bus from rural Mississippi with only a month’s rent in my Gap capri pants pocket. Like many others, I came to New York City completely confused, looking for a place where I could finally be myself. Since that day, this city has turned me into everything from a reality TV star (I appeared on Big Brother 5) to a travel show host (Round Trip Ticket on Logo), and most importantly, a registered nurse. I’ve come out of the closet here, found my first true love and created sustaining friendships that have grown into a freaky family. So it seemed only natural to me at the ripe old age of 32 to shock my system with an unexpected new hobby: go-go dancing.
I’ve danced all over the city nearly every weekend since, driven by the unparalleled view of New York City nightlife afforded by the go-go perch. I get to see the drag queens perfecting their tuck game in the back of the club and watch drunken one night stands spring to life on the dance floor. Some friends make fun of my new side gig, saying my nurse-slash-exotic dancer existence is like the plotline of a low budget indie film. To my Southern Baptist family back home, I tell them that God blessed me with a bountiful butt, and shaking it is my ministry.