Friday, August 19, 2005


Oh dear. I’m afraid I overindulged a bit too much with the $1 mystery shots at my local cowboy gay bar last night. I don’t remember what they were called or what was in them (I think I recall peach schnapps as one ingredient) but they were super cheap and tasted like fruit juice. So I had about eight.

I was just going to meet my gang of lesbos for a Bud Light or two, and the next thing I knew it was 1:30 a.m. and I was stumbling into my apartment realizing that my alarm was going to be going off in about five hours. I hate that feeling. But not quite as much as the feeling when the alarm actually does go off, I guess.

To be honest, the reason I stayed out so late and did so many shots was because I had a crush on our waiter. All the waiters at this bar dress up cowboy-style, complete with cowboy hats, boots, flannel shirts, tight jeans, etc. It’s not the type of look you see everyday. Unless perhaps you live in some small town somewhere down south. Or close to a Wal-Mart. And I was intrigued by him.
His name was Matt too and he’s also a Cancer. I’m not sure if that signifies anything at all, except that we happened to have a couple incidental things in common. But it seemed like a big deal at the time.
So I grabbed his ass but didn’t get his number. It’s probably better that way. He can remain a cutie mystery cowboy guy in my mind. At least until next Thursday….


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