monday night: looking up, I can see the moon shining brightly, but he pushes my head back down, and I dont get to see the morning sky again until we leave the rooftop. Earlier, just as I was bowled over with glee that Genius of Love was blasting from the speakers, some guy who got the bartender's attention first (although not at the bar first) got 2 beers, and passed me one! Soon enough, he was saying bye to his pals as he moved over to the stool next to the one I was leaning on, said some nice, sexy things, asked some rather pointed sex questions, and it looked like we were gonna "do it". But right in the middle of me saying something incredibly filthy into his ear, he turns away, and starts talking to another guy! He didn't move, didn't say anything until he turned his head back, said something about a 3-way. and I''m thinking, "yeah right, with my performance anxiety, not to mention 3 beers and a vodka cranberry, I can't imagine having two guys wondering what's going on "down there". Then, suddenly, he says "I'm leaving, meet me outside, to the right, in 2 minutes"...... that and a subway token.... nevermind. So, actually pondering whether I'd go out there, Housequake pops on, loud and pumping, right after a semi-decent mix of Groove Is In the Heart. Leaving? I dont think so.

Then this other guy stumbles up, a friend of a bar-friend type. Looks good, despite the severity of his shaved/bald head (head looked good, but you can tell the doctor pulled hard on the ears with his tongs when pulling this one out of Momma). He says hi like every 4th time we bump into each other, and being 3 am, and he's standing on one of my feet, he couldn't NOT say hey. Within 2 minutes, his hand is in my pants, pulling hard on my balls, saying "ooh, i love big balls, oooh, yeah" Shit, so do I, so, how could I deny him? Then his shirt is off, revealing a nicely tanned torso , not to mention that flat stomach, so I took a few slurps just at the belt, but found my mouth clenched on one of his nipples. (much better than the guy with no belly-button earlier - most alarming, looking up and seeing it wasn't an inny, it wasn't an outee, it was just flat!)So, that seemed to go over well, as his pull on my naughty bits got more intense. This is in the front, leaning against the bar, in stark contrast to the non-goings on in this same bar's backroom on Friday.

Within minutes, he was on the seat of my bike as I pedaled his unexpectantly heavy self down to 2nd st for a tour of his roof; not that he allowed me anytime to actually see anything.....

sunday night:this was spooky 80s nite. ran into an ex-roommate of mine (we usually have the decency to ignore each other, but I was apparently leaning against the spot where he had left his drink, so, we did the pleasantries thing until I came up with some clever excuse to go like - "bye". Also ran into a sorta-X bf (i saw his 70's hair 15 minutes before i saw him); sorta cuz we only dated for 3 months in like 1983, and sorta cuz, when I tired to kiss him once at 3am on 2nd avenue and 13th st back then, he grimaced. I don't last long with bf's who grimace at public kisses on a deserted street in the middle of Manhattan. But, I did spot the hunky guy who dee-jayed last week, and told him it was great. His usual stern look erupted into the cutest sheepish grin, and later I followed up by passing what I was smking to him while he was oddly tucked in a dark corner. Meanwhile, the backroom was just too spooky. I usually like to get at least a faint glance at the person who owns the arm that has taken up residence in my ass, so after about 20 minutes, I put that to a halt! And some guy seemed to "like me", and he looked familiar enough, but I couldn't figure him out until he didn't even offer to share his poppers (I mean, i was doing all the work, what's with the not-sharing thing??) So, as I got up, I realized he was the same guy who months earlier was blowing me, gestured to my cold Budweiser, I handed it to him, and he drank in one gulp the remaing 11 ounces! Time to head back to the front and get some water, and park my ass under the speaker where it belongs. The deejay managed some decent stuff, but not as good as the previous Sunday when hunky-boy was back there.

saturday night the german computer saviour advised I get out of the house for awhile, after 3 days of watching him fix the machine. I lucked out; hairy guy, 3 emails, and a couple hours later found myself the proud owner of a much-deserved honorary rimology degree.

friday night (skipping all the early evening waiting-for-birthday-boy--to-show-up-but-instead-seeing-heartbreaking-X again..... let's go to the post 2am festivities) Ugh. Now, I am quite okay with the idea that not everytime i go to a bar/backroom, i get hit on, or have sex, but when NO ONE is having sex, that's just too disturbing. My control freak self wanted to smack them all back into shape, starting with the 2 drag queens taking up prime bench space cackling away. And then there's the 2 or 3 groupings of boys chatting at the top of their lungs "Ohhhh, I could never do it back here, girl!!" and numerous other hard-on inducing tidbits. And there were some real cuties, they just needed a quick push into each other to get things going, but the deejay wasn't helping much. Cheap Trick and Cyndi Lauper just DONT get guys on their knees, at least not the kind of guys i'd want to see on their knees. So, by 3:30, as I walked past a friend who was getting groped from behind, I hopped on the bike, and pedaled home for some soothing Starbucks ice cream.....