I had a similar experience in NYC when I was first exploring my same-sex interests.
In 1975, Time Square held some of the seediest aspects of the sexual underground. I hesitated a long time before entering an adult book store. As I moved about the store, I examined things I had never even seen in my fantasies.
After a while, I entered a video booth. Before I had closed the door, a young boy with long, unkempt hair — I’m guessing about fifteen-years-old — jumped into the booth with me.
He was more direct than your companion, Jim. “Twenty bucks for a blow job.”
He was too young and I was too new to have given it serious thought.
But I still think of him, too.
I imagine he may have died from HIV or other street-originated complications.
I could have been he.