constant comment
Well, last night at Sidetrack I spent an evening singing along to showtunes. I’m not normally there on a Monday evening, but it was bartender Todd’s birthday and I had to show some love. Aaron’s punk ass canceled on me at the last minute but I wasn’t worried. A night out by myself always turns out to be fun.
Fun indeed. I ran into Nick, a guy I met YEARS ago, and we had a great time chatting about how we’ve changed, how the scene has changed, and how much we hate it when the older queens change the words to the fabulous songs a-la-Rocky-Horror.
And then there was Steven. Stephen? Steeven? I’m not sure how you spell it, but he was deee-licious and from somewhere over the rainbow. I laid my numba on him and he phoned at 3am, whilst I was in dreamland sound asleep. He has a Kansas area code, and I suspect I’ll make contact with him later on this week.
But for now, here I sit, steeping my Constant Comment teabag. I’m tired, but it was a fun night out, and after the weekend that just passed, I needed it.