"Beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy."
I thought I'd go out last night for my usual: A couple of beers and a shot of Crown Royal. I like being out and among 'em now and then at the gay bars. The 'thump-a thump-a" music is like a brain massage, and the recipe above is a great prescription for a really good night's sleep. (I know, any real gay boyz that read this are thinking, "What a lightweight! I drink that much in the car on the way to the bar!" Well, to each his own. I can have a great evening for less than $10. How about you?)
I especially like going out on Thursdays. The crowd is pretty thin (tons of people crowded into small spaces makes me crazy). But there were enough guys out to provide some pretty good eye candy. I can't see that well, so everyone is somewhat cute from a distance. Since the two-thirds of them that have jobs have to work tomorrow, nobody's too drunk. Everybody is just chilling, enjoying the atmosphere and each other's company. I'm not very pretty, and I'm old enough to be completely invisible. Plus gay guys are as cliquish and wary of outsiders as churchy people. I'm not part of any of the cliques at the bar (or church), so I stand around taking everything in.
Of course I'm always on the lookout for one of those three minute conversations that can change the rest of one's life. I've had several of those over the years, and some really good friendships started that way. Some people you just instantly connect with. My chances of finding such a connection at a bar is about like my chances of finding a partridge in a pear tree, but I don't believe in coincidence, and the Universe might actually arrange for my next best friend to be at the Park on some Thursday.
But mainly, I just relaxed, had a drink, people watched and enjoyed the music. So long as I stay shallow, and don't let my thoughts wander toward the people who live there every night, I have a good time.