Ivrogne, or In Case You Thought You Were Missing Anything

[I think it may be to be someone else. I think at this point we can all accept the truism that we intoxicate ourselves because it's the quickest route to escape, to transcend, to be...well, something different than who we are from day to day. From minute to minute. Is it real? Well, to quote a Madeleine L'Engle (dead, dead, dead) unicorn, "What Is Real?:]

[To wit, tonight I have been:]

[-Bored shitless;]
[-Flirty on a very crowded bus with a shaggy-is-the-new-shaved visitor from New York;]
[-Patient and kind at the 'Tuni as I waited for my friend to be thru waiting on real customers and fix me a drink and maybe talk a bit;]
[-Flirty and loud with a classic New York Hunka-Hunka across the bar. (I thought he was a Guido; turns out he was a Ioannis);]
[-Endearing and chatty with NYHH and his two African-American friends (they bought me drinks);]
[-Bitchy and outrageous with same;]
[-Soulful and attentive ditto;]
[-Heavily flirty and probably inappropiate with one of two A-A's (nose to die for; I'm a nose man...;]
[-Truly inappropriate with Ioannis at the end. Hey, at least I got kissed (hard);]
[-Fascinated, along with some other middle-aged passersby, with a 50s-themed children's birthday party inside the hair salon on Haight near Gough. As we waited for the bus, we cheered on the eight-year-olds dressed in their best Peggy Sue as they beat the hell out of a pinata in the shape of a 45 rpm record. You had to be there...Howard Cosell and ABC's Wide World of Sports couldn't touch it for sheer drama;]
[-A vampire, 1,000,000 years old and invisible, as one last beer was half-finished among what might be called a crowd at Tracks, the upper Haight's only ostensibly queer boite. Go and try to gild the lily.]
[-Filled by two Trader Joe's chili-cheese tamales and on to the Vorld Vide Veb to report to you.]

[Saturday night's all right for...bitin'?!]]

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