September 11, 1967 – February 3, 2013
Remembering Arpad Miklos
by Josh Ryley
While many people may have already moved on from the death of Arpad Miklos, those close to him, such as myself are still here, trying to take care of business and being reminded of him, constantly. Today is his public memorial and I wanted to say something about this wonderful man, my best buddy, my guide in life…
Those are the first two words Arpad Miklos wrote to me in an email. I was a new escort on the scene and had been checking out his profile on Rentmen (I hadn’t made the leap to Rentboy.com yet). I found myself examining the text of his ad often, wondering what made him so magnetic. His muscular physique, large shoulders, beautiful hairy chest, chiseled features and commanding presence were obviously attractive — I was just a lean, goofy looking guy next door — but he had something more. I didn’t know much about him, but I appreciated his no-nonsense attitude and the way he remained clear about what he offered. He had a “what you see is what you get” mentality and it was believable. He wasn’t hiding and he wasn’t ashamed of his job. I wanted to adopt a similar way of working.
Upon receiving an email that says “looks good” from a handsome man, no matter who it is, I have to Google them. So, I looked up this supposed “Arpad” and found his movies, his pictures, everything I could. I was blown away by his presence and his appearance. He was massive.
“Thank you, that means a lot coming from a man like you.” I replied to his email a few hours later.
“Well why don’t you come over and show your appreciation?”
In my naiveté, I did not understand what he meant, and replied:
“I don’t think I can afford you, I am sorry.”
“You silly goose, just come over and we will have fun.”
I didn’t go over that night as I had to work, but we began text each other over the course of the next few days. I enjoyed having someone to finally share stories about the trials and tribulations of being an escort. He was always responsive, available to chat, flirt and make me smile.
I eventually made the journey to his place late one night after a job that did not go so well. I texted him the details of my job gone wrong as I waited on an outdoor platform in Brooklyn trying to get home. A minute after I was done my phone buzzed.
“How about now, silly goose? Seems like you could use some fun after that job.”
“I am on my way.”
I was never this impulsive, but something about him made me take the chance. My body quivered in excitement and I got an erection thinking of the man I was about to meet.
When I arrived at his apartment, his gigantic frame filled the door and I lost my breath for a minute and I became shy, unable to speak.
“Well, well, look at you. More handsome then I thought. Hello, and come in,” he said as he smiled, turned and led the way into his place.
I did not know at that time that this man whose bicep with the size of my thigh, whose thigh was the size of my waist, whose hand could palm a bowling ball without using the holes, would ultimately become my closest friend and confidante.
From that evening forward, we started talking daily. I was lucky. He saw potential in me as an escort, but more importantly, he saw potential in me as a person. I needed that very much because I was out there on my own, making it up as I went along.
Many people do not realize this, but escorting can be lonely and is hard work. Being a GOOD escort is not for the lazy or weak-minded. Putting yourself out there and offering intimacy is a special act. Arpad taught me that.
Go ahead, you can question this or make fun of it. You can call us lazy or pariahs or drug addicts or damaged and useless to society, but I am not any of those things, nor was Arpad. He believed that escorts offer companionship and love to those who need it. Yes, there is a price attached, but when a therapist sits there and “listens” to you, do you not pay them? When someone works out the knots in your back and relaxes you, do they not deserve compensation? Arpad was unashamedly proud of his work, and always told me to be as well. And I am.
Arpad was also the hardest working man I knew. He instilled in me a work ethic to which I was not accustomed. I came from an art school background where all I wanted to do was paint, create videos, draw, sew and write. I did not know what it meant to be on call, promote yourself, read a situation quickly and handle finances the way he did.
Arpad took me under his wing and cared for me. He shielded me from abusive clients and introduced me to kind ones. He taught me about escort etiquette and educated me about what is business and what is pleasure. He was also the man who taught me to shave my balls saying, “How does it feel to be a boy again?”
We became partners in work, always recommending each other as a second man for groups. We are not the same type, but we would tell people, “You get the best of both worlds, the muscle daddy with his boy-next-door, at your service to pound you.” It usually worked out. It is thanks to him I saw cities like Chicago, Los Angeles, Boston, Miami and DC.
But he was much more than a business mentor to me, much more. He held my hand in his giant paw several times while I cried over a friend’s sudden death and again when I learned some of the horrors of being in this business. He cared for me when I was sick, down, or just not feeling well, and I cared for him. He opened up his life to me and, as a result, he became a significant part of my life. He was the big brother I never had and always wanted.
Arpad shared Thanksgivings and Christmases with my family. They adored him. My mom would get so excited to see him, she would act like a schoolgirl. I marveled at his ease in flirting with older women, talking tough with the men, and, most impressive, getting down on his knees and playing with my niece and nephew, wrestling them and picking them up with his giant arms. He was a life-sized jungle gym to them. He even liked the dog no one in my family liked; played with him and allowed him to lick his face asking him questions and giving him belly rubs when he saw him. He loved any animal that crossed his path and would take pictures of them to send to his friends with comments like: “Look at this silly thing, hehehe.”
Arpad had a very important significant other in his life — the love of his life. He kept this private from most people he met. I know this man and am good friends with him. In fact, he gave me permission to write this. Arpad loved this man so much and expressed it to me on a regular basis. He wanted nothing more than one day to retire and be together with him and his dog (whom Arpad loved deeply as well). He wanted to finally relax. It was this man and I who were there taking care of things the day he passed. We were and are his family.
Outside of his inner circle, Arpad played a lot of roles for others. He was a “daddy,” “power top,” “muscle bear,” “rugged man,” “gentle giant,” “hookup.” These personas he would adopt, depending on the situation, and he was a master of it. The clients who became regularly involved with him adored him. They have since reached out to me for answers and all I can say is I have no answers. I know it’s hard for them, too. It is never easy to see someone you care for go away, no matter what the relationship. I thank everyone for loving him so much.
I want people to remember he was more then a porn actor (I say STAR, and LEGEND, damn it.) More than an escort, more than a big handsome man who everyone could recognize on the streets of New York City, he was a joker and had a great sense of humor. He was a lover of opera and classical music, an avid reader, a loyal friend, a brother, a son, a boyfriend, an uncle, a mentor and, most of all, a PERSON.
The details of his death are irrelevant. There is no need for rumors when people pass suddenly, no need to sensationalize a tragedy, no need for people to add their anonymous two cents on blogs. It is a time for people to act decent and let sleeping dogs lie (and again, he loved dogs!).
He is gone and that is all that matters. His reasons were his own and we must respect that.
I will miss him forever and everyday I wake up expecting my daily text saying, “Gurrrrl, what’s cooking?” I hope in time his words of wisdom do not fade away and I will live my life in a way that will make him proud.
Arpad… Peter…I love you and miss you dearly.
~written by Josh Ryley, February 9, 2013
ARPAD MIKLOS Public Memorial, New York City
G Lounge Sunday, Feb 9, 5-8pm
225 West 19th, New York, New York 10011