"An autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying....."
Monday, February 15, 2010
Soundtrack to this post: I have a trio of field reports waiting for my strength to renew after a lengthy sojourn into the brink this past weekend. I'll go ahead and share one now rather than wait to codify them all together.
Headed out Saturday night to meet a number of friends. One guy, blogged about before is separating from his wife and realizing that no matter how hard he wants to make it work, his wife is hellbound and determined to take him for all he's worth...and they have a young son in the midst as well. The other is an older couple who for an inexplicable reason has attempted to cast me out of this particular social circle....and the last is my mentor/confidant in the form of an older, **** woman. I had downed a number of drinks @ another spot with a buddy before starting his shift downtown. Checked out 2 bars with another member of the rogue's gallery where some girls opened us with a simple "hello". Interesting how a mass-marketed/media blitzed holiday will shake the status quo with tremors.
Headed into the upscale bar full of cougars, older/business guys, some escorts, and wealthier married couples. Grabbed a stool and got ogled by a gay guy and his faghag friend nearby. I guess it was the Argyle I was wearing. At any rate, got an earful about the divorce proceedings, caught up faux style with the older couple with whom I no longer keep contact, and my mentor dropped some precious wisdom in the ear of your humble narrator.
Posted up at the bar to get a beer where an effeminate guy made a pass. Le sigh. A waitress with teeth like this, jokingly gave me a hard time for ordering a domestic beer (apparently I would have been smarter to overpay for a top shelf martini - and only seemed more likely to be a sucker of cock to twinks nearby - ).
"Our love is never free...."
20 min's later I was approached by another guy. Le sigh. At this point I'd already downed 8 beers and 1 shot. Having not been out in the brink much as of late, I was hitting the fade to black barrier. Our group headed to a nearby club/bar. My motor skills remained in tune, but just barely. Downed 2 more drinks before a girl grabbed my arm and introduced me to her young, sing-song, college-age friend. Another girl tried to swipe my hat but I brushed her hand away. The college-age girl assaulted me with questions. It wasn't even 1am. I bid adieu to my friends. I was exhausted. There was an unmistakable urgency to the crowd. A need for validation. A seeking of affirmation if only in the visual, cheap sense of attention and human interaction of the most superficial manner. I wished to take part no longer. My emotional currency had traded hands and faded with the bottom of however many bottles/glasses. So many girls....so little lust.
Woke up and trained like a fuckin' champ b/c well, that's what I do...and sweating out a hangover in the purgatory of the gym beats feeling like shit all day.