MY LIFE AS A SPY

November 21,2003 | 9:03pm

Doing my laundry is always an adventure. Twenty-five cent wash days at my Coin-Less Laundromat are every Tuesday and Thursday. These pre-nineteenth century prices don’t come without their particular challenges though and for me it’s waking up early enough to beat the geriatric crowd to the washer.

Luckily, there are televisions to make my Tuesday mornings a little more exciting. This week, the channels are set to English speaking stations and I get to watch Martha Stewart bake a turkey with Jennifer Gardner.
For those of you who don’t know about my obsession with Jennifer Gardner, let me catch you up. I watch her TV spy/action/sci-fi/drama/comedy show Alias with a fervor rivaled only by Paris Hilton for gyno fame. I record each episode, and do three things.

• One: watch it twice (once alone and once with a guest).

• Two: rate her wig/appearance by recording sketches, thoughts, and impressions in my Alias log.

• And three: give five random people a synopsis of that week’s show to spark interest. My favorite part though, is the wig journal that I hid in an airtight vault within my turtle’s aquarium to conceal it from the KGB. They’ll never find it, suckers.

In fact, I love the show so much, I’ve been deep undercover just like Jennifer was in Season One and Two. For the past two years, I’ve been under the alias Lonnie Tapia. I’ve opted for the fashionable Halle Barry hairstyle (the James Bond cut not the Gothika one). I’ve taken to being absolutely fabulous in wardrobe and hair and I’m too flawless for make-up, so I’ve ignored that portion of the mission.

Unlike Jennifer’s character Sydney, I’ve taken an extreme alias challenge: to become a raging homosexual with a sexy body with unlimited creative potential. I’ve fooled them so well, people wouldn’t even believe I’m the best CIA agent working for the United States. They actually think I’m really some graphic designer from the Southwest with humble beginnings.

My mission is clear, I HotStud…

oh, HotStud is my codename. I like hearing "HotStud are you there?" over my hidden mic because it makes me feel soooo good everytime I hear it, and I love people wanting me in a naughty way. In fact it used to be "Park Ranger" but that just wasn’t fabulous enough for this assignment so I changed it…

But anyway, like I said, I HotStud am to infiltrate the gay scene in Phoenix reporting all intel (that’s short fort intelligence) back to my handler (the guy who gives me my missions from the government agency).

On my mission, I’ve met other undercover agents, the gay community has so many. There are some men that go undercover dressing as women and performing at local bars. Who are they fooling? They can’t get intel that way, but they do walk away with a wad of cash each night, usually in singles, and their motives continue to remain unclear. Perhaps they report back to their superiors in the "dressing rooms." I must research this further.

I’ve also found gay jocks. I’ve "become" one of them, too and they love to see me without my shirt on (naturally). I’ve humored them so far, but only to get the information I need. My work can seem so slutty at times but I try not to let it bother me. I’m very devoted to my mission and wouldn’t risk being compromised as a double agent.

My place of employment is very peculiar. Sure, I’ve won awards as normal graphic designers’ do, but I’m really there because I can better infiltrate the gay mafia. What better way to do that then to work at a gay magazine uncovering their flashy motives, future trends, and glittery goals?

Last night my alias morphed slightly into a sub classification they call "club kid." I joined some friends and we hit the lesbo (that’s short for lesbian) club. I think I outdid myself at said club. For instance, I casually let down every guy that tried to hit on me (making them want me even more. You should try it, it’s super fun.). I joined the locals in their drinking rituals, but where I really succeeded as a double agent was on the dance floor.

Like every other gay guy there I climbed over my friends and danced three feet above the crowd supporting myself only by grabbing onto the rafters high above the dance floor. I "bumped" and "grinded" with a dozen or so cute guys (and sometimes women if I was pushed into them). I danced vigorously "shaking my ass" a la Beyoncé when appropriate and even threw my hands in the air when asked by the hip hop artists singing their rhymes. A lot of this I did while "pretending to be drunk". I mean come on, would I secret agent working for the CIA really get drunk on an assignment? And on half a beer?

But lately I’m beginning to fear I’m getting to deep. I know too much. I’m getting too good at being gay like starting my own fashion and vocabulary trends, knowing more about gay culture (Ellen) than anyone should, and by being them most gorgeous person I know.