Sometime after 4 this morning, a pal who hasn't spoken to me in 2 years has just snapped his cockring on, and pulls out a pair of Hanes from one of his drawers and asks me to put them on. Why is it that we (or maybe it's just me) only do these things when we are too drunk to do them well? Even though I am extrememly (not a typeo, cuz that's the way I'd say it if I could speak) hungover, I am glad I had those beers that gave me the nerve to go up to him at the Cock and say "We've both had enough beer to ignore the fact that you are mad at me and we can say HEY" He smiled slyly, and said HEY, then something along the lines of not being mad anymore. I told him I missed him and he looked good. A pal of his (a very cute upstairs neighbor of mine, in fact) joined us, and we giggled to the disco tunes blasting, smoked some dope, had more beer. We caught up only a small amount (nothing in my life has changed really), and he still loves my whole underwear-on-eBay thing (and selling the beard, - ahhh the good old days!). I had forgotten that he is almost exactly the same age (same sign, same year), something that both of us find rather reassuring somehow. I doubt I will ever get over my crush on him, as he is sexy and fun and smart; but it's a good crush, the slight flirty kind but can still share stories of conquest and shit kind, you know? And he did - tales of hot Latins in Miami (I forget his exact nationality, but he's dark and has fantastic arm tattoos) - of pulling out his laptop within minutes of checking in to a hotel and having someone on his way over soon after that.

Anyway, the other guy had work in the morning, and said goodnight. We had one more beer, and not until he misheard something I said and replied "oh, wanna get out of here?" did it occur to me that there might be sex. Even then, it could just be the old "it's late, lets smoke some pot and pass out on the livingroom floor" thing. His stereo was on when we got there, his cat was rather loud and needy, and he put his little pipe in my mouth and lit it.

I knew enough to leave soon after he came, since we'd both be passed out within a minute or two, and the morning hangover what do we say to each other thing wasn't something I felt like experiencing. I don't want to analyze or "process" it together - the ice was broken, we don't need to ignore each other as we pass on the street riding our bikes (yeah, we used to bump into each other on the street and talk bike stories - going on and on about stupid pedestrians, or methods of cruising/circling cuties on the street).When I got down to street level, pausing to remember where he had me lock the bike around the corner, the sky that slightly light dark blue as the birds were deciding if it was time yet, I wondered if this would be the last night of stupid inebriation, or if the 20 bucks still in my desk drawer at home would mean I'd try again later tonight. $3.00 draft beers at the Phoenix....... Bike, get me home.