Monday, October 02, 2000

Night life, in summary

The scene: A nightclub so crowded it had become less a bar and more an exercise in the law of displacement.

Me: A little buzzed, a little down, a little high, a little horny, a little low on the personal esteem meter.

Him: Blue tank top, bulgy in all the right places, Strawberry blond, azure eyes, body by Fisher, brains by Mattel, also appeared to have experienced more ecstacy in one night than Hugh Hefner had in a lifetime.

The pitch: Not particularly graceful, containing more euphemism than probably wise, alluding to my prodigious sexual prowess and the availability of a variety of depressants at my home.

The payoff: Gold medal in the 400-meter freestyle sodomy event and sleeping until 2 p.m. curled around a 26-year-old Backstreet Boy-alike.

If there is such a thing as karma, I am so coming back as a cricket in the next lifetime.