Peter and I decide to get absolutely shitfaced last night. I want to visit the last remaining gay bars that I never made it to. Making my famous mint martini’s, we sit in the apartment, music playing, a bottle of Grey Goose Citron manages to almost disappear. Peter, reading my blog, is yelling that there’s a TV show in here someplace, he’s just not sure whether it’s a recurring Sitcom or an HBO special. We go down to play pool in the club room. Bottle of white disappears too.

Fully lubricated, off to Hank’s Seafood in gay ground zero for a snackie. The hostess is a incredible looking, 22 year old girl next door, with a radiant smile, sweet, one to marry. “Hi! Chris!”, she says, quickly seating us, lingering to chat for a minute. Peter leans over, “Do you realize she remembered your name? Jesus Christ what is it with you? You’ve only been here once before”. I don’t know.

So we’re going to Chaos, a predominately Latino bar, underground, bit nervous, the security guy is “wanding” people coming in. We enter, the place is dead, decide to leave. Coming up the stairs, I’m in chat mode, 3 girls standing there. Hello baby. Turns out they’re 3 married women (2 Latino) out for a night away from their husbands. I make them part of our group and down the street we go to Halo.

An hour in Halo passes quickly. Peter is busy pawing one of the women. I’m playing the supporting “gay” guy, the other Latino women is explaining to me how big her husband’s dick is and how he’s horny all the time but doesn’t know how to really turn her on. His dick curves in some direction that seems to bother her. I’m thinking is this what was in store for me as a gay guy?

Almost midnight, grab a cab with group back to Chaos. OMG!!! An entire room full of Latino guys. It’s the Mexican version of a gay Gigante store. An to think I forgot my shopping list! This is not good. It’s drag show night. I immediately zone in on a this hot body Panamanian. Not my typical find. He has cut all his hair, but has beautiful eyes. God is he sensual, this is my weak spot with all Latinos. We talk, he moves away in the crowd. Few minutes later I spy him eyeing me from across the room. It’s a little game. I go over, we talk some more. I drag him to dance with my girls. They’re chattering in Spanish. The way he moves his body is creating a huge problem for me. 🙂

It’s approaching 3 a.m., club is closing, Peter and I escort our ladies out to an awaiting cab, I saddly leave my Panamanian behind. We are fully intoxicated and stumble back home.

5:15 a.m. fire alarm going off in the building, Klaxon horns rumbling my bed, strobe lights illuminating the apartment like a bad disco, I fall down the stairwell out into the street. Fire trucks arrive. False alarm. God was sending me a signal I think.