It’s amazing how gay leisure time flies by since I became single after LL’s death during that terrible boating accident back in August. Often when my long week-ends are expelling their last breath in a depressed sigh on Sunday night and I emerge from my stupor, I wonder where these hours went. I always find little pieces of to-do lists scattered all over my apartment with awful little things on them like “read a book”, “read a book”, and “send an e-mail to Fred” . I never get around doing any of it. Often I merely found the time to brush my teeth or clean up the vomit on the bathroom’s carpet over the week-end, let alone read anything.
Drinking is that missing link between the professional thingy and the gym. Drinking is that massive black hole which captures gay dreams and gay fears and turns them into nothing. When I say drinking, it encompasses related activities such as nurturing hangover, sleeping with strangers, going to the gym, stalking people on friendster, and discussing meditation techniques with male dancers, the hours curled up on people’s doormat, various embarrassing moments and the occasional 3 a.m. traffic accident. It’s all related to drinking. Drinking is the cornerstone of my very gay cathedral. Incidentally all of my posts are connected to each other by a drinking monotheme. That puts me in such an awkward situation when The Others ask me on Monday “so what did you do over the week-end?”. If you are genuine and have the strength to answer you can reply “I got a little drunk”, then they chuckle and then they say “for the last three days?”, then you reply “for the last six years” and then they chuckle again and run away. I usually tell them I read the fountainhead all week-end, it gets them going and reassures them.
I'm guessing that the little note you had with "send an e-mail to Russ" written on it accidentally fell under the sofa!
Posted by: Russ W. | Monday, February 12, 2007 at 05:20 PM
La piscine est-elle pleine de l'alcohol?
Posted by: | Monday, February 12, 2007 at 09:09 PM