The music is good, so the fact that the crowd is thinning out, and everyone else seems to be engaged in conversation, I don't let it get to me. But it does, and the next bar is only a block and a half away, so I unlock the vehicle and pedal over, pay my 3 bucks, adjust my glasses (the warm air fogs me up), and check out the smoke-filled room. The music is kinda crappy, some sort of too-loud pop-metal, but I get the bartender's attention and he gives me the beer. Hmmmm. Where to lean?
Standing in one corner, then another, eventually I decide not to let the "dancer" on the bar with his hands in his drawers intimidate me, so I grab the seat underneath him (or, rather, the stool by the bar near him). A Blondie tune kicks in - one of my favorite bands from college- and things seem to feel a bit better. The hairy Latino moves down away from where I sit, returns a few minutes later and grabs my head, in a massaging fashion. He's very hot, actually; probably one of the few non-smooth non-shaved bodied ones I've seen here - but still, it's his job, and I'm saving my money for beer. He pets me longer than I would imagine he would a non-paying patron, but he's gotten the attention of others in the bar, so using me as a prop obviously worked. I try to buy some water, but the bartender can't find any, so I am forced, for the rest of the night, to drink beer - boo-hoo, I know. Now GoGoBoy is leaning away from me, but drawers are pulled down, and his ass is about 10 inches from my face - lightly hairy, firm; thick hard calves, big leather boots. Nice. Very nice. The place is filling up, and I notice this guy, this seemingly out-of-place guy. He's maybe my age, could be older, could be a bit younger, who knows. He's standing, kinda leaning, suit, nice coat - maybe even camelhair - and he's bopping a bit to the music. I smile. I don't know why it struck me as cool; but he was also all by himself, just taking it all in, and then a Smiths tune comes on, and now he's dancing by himself - nothing crazy or silly, he's just letting himself enjoy himself, quietly singing along, moving in place. And a long string of great music continues. My mood is definitely lifted, just absorbing it all. Then, 3rd beer maybe, this absolutely adorable man appears - in just a sleeveless tee-shirt and jeans, baseball cap and scruffy face. Can't tell if he's by himself, but he's also enjoying the music, dancing around, showing off a real nice pair of worn worn jeans. Just adorable. Within minutes the GoGoBoy has gotten his attention, and even leans down to say hi. They chat for maybe only a minute or two, but both are clearly turned on by each other. Adorable Man returns to dancing by himself; I notice he dances practically exactly the same to a disco tune as he does to Nirvana, which makes me laugh, then envy him, then love him again. I amuse myself by watching all the freaks. At one point, I am struck by how many people seem to have fake hair. I mean, they don't have fake hair, but it looks like half the bar has like grunge-band hair-pieces on and when did the New Romantic Look come back? More beer.
I'm pretty wasted - not hopelessly so, but enough to know meeting someone would be downright goofy, and the equipment would be useless, and my ability to put more than 4 words together is, well, nearly gone. But there's a good vibe in the place, all smoky and trashy. Then Mr. Adorable comes up and says "hey, how come you don't tip the guy?" He's smiling, and beautiful (he probably never doesn't look beautiful, the fucker), and I say "HUH?" He laughs, repeats himself, and I mumble something about being poor and needing all my money for beer, and he laughs again. And his own personal GoGoBoy appears, and they are holding each other's waists - and remarkably I don't hate them. I say something to GoGoBoy about liking his body hair, and he mouths something about 'manly this' or 'manly that' and i wisely don't pay too close attention - it would ruin the illusion. I turn to Adorable Guy and say something about how hot both of them are - he giggles and says "but who's going to be the top?" I try not to groan too noticeably and just tell him it doesn't matter, "you're both beautiful, you'll have fun." The lights are suddenly on, GoGoBoy has luggage, the music is still on but they are yelling at us to leave (this place is so classy); I can't tell if they are leaving together, but I am too drunk to worry about that. Somehow I manage to compliment the deejay without falling over the bottles and plastic cups, I stumble out, unlock, slowly ride past the Sidewalk Sale (it's 4 degrees outside, and they are lined up outside, thinking that one of the guys who ignored them all night, or who they ignored, will try to pick them up.... hey, it works for some people, just never for me) and somehow get home safely and in one piece.
Today was a vague nothing day. The usual first day of my weekend - lots of things I ought to be doing, but I sit here at this machine typing and clicking and not even bathing or changing clothes - even for the quick run to the post office and grocery store. I spot a few webpages worth coming back to, bookmark them, have a couple of brief AOL chatroom chats (as horny as I almost always am, I am never as ready to have sex as these guys - what's wrong with me??) Then a conversation with a former neighborhood buddy. He's in Hell's Kitchen these days, and we are comparing notes on sex and dating and I compliment him on his new profile pic. He complains about all the bottoms instant messaging him ("Don't they read my profile!") I re-assure him it's just that he's hot, and they figure they can convert him into a top. I ask if he's tried any of the bigmuscle bigbear bearmuscle butchnude dudesnude butchdude musclemutt bigmutt muttbutt or any of the other non- instant messaging type "dating" webpages. And I send him a link to one of them as we laugh about all this silliness.
He signs off, I stay glued to the computermonitor, eyes soar and hunting and i see him. HIM. I can't remember where I first saw his pic earlier in the day, but there he is, several non-naked pics, and this one, this one amazing close-up profiled handsome face that I just can't take my eyes off of. I only glance at the text - much younger, blah blah blah but his face, not even my usual type. OK, OK, he has facial hair, and presumably a cock and balls - so maybe he's my type; the rest is so much less important than the face - the part that makes you dream and imagine and wonder and........ I try surfing on other sites - news, bjork, webstats (it's been 20 minutes, has anyone else read today's brilliance!?) but keep coming back to that face, THE FACE.
Then, crash. 8:05pm. CRASH.
My usual winter blues arrive and fall right on my head and BAM! I am bummed out. Big Time. Nothing specific - just the usual overwhelming I'm tooboringtoofattoopoornotinterestingenougholdstinkynoonewilleverlovemeagain thing that isn't any of those just the realization that it's been a long time, but the winters get scarier each year and I hope I can keep reminding myself that it always passes, this long cold loneliness - eventually. Why does a beautiful face do that to me? A picture, even. I won't share it with you, cuz the particular face isn't important (well, it is, and could be, but it isn't - you know?) But sometimes you wish you lived in some crappy small town so that being so lonely on an island of 2 million wouldn't feel so much like it's your own fault - just circumstance.
New Year's Eve - gonna head out, but after midnight of course (single people know why), and playing some tunes from Bjork, of course. Then the disc changes, and i have it on pretty loud, and am singing along - screaming, really, by the middle of the song - singing along - Gosh, screaming along that night felt a lot better than just reading along now.....
i'm so impatient
i can't stand the wait
when will i get my cuddle?
who are you?
i know by now that you'll arrive
by the time i stop waiting
i miss you