I was a bit stoned when I arrived at Black Bear Bar last night for the Xanadude party, a bit buzzed on whiskey. I heard a Smiths song and got really excited for this party, was really surprised they were playing the Smiths, as I thought the party was all dance music. Unfortunately, the Smiths song was coming from the party in the main room. Xanadude was happening in the back bar and was indeed straight-up dance music. It was dark, it was crowded, bodies pressed against bodies. Soon after getting there, this one guy started dancing with me. He danced closer and closer. I kept backing away from him, doing a circle around him get on the other side of him, all because I wanted to dance, to feel my limbs move with rhythms. I felt cramped. This guy just wanted to dance close and flirt. The darkness had me wary. I didn't know who I was dealing with. I have terrible night vision. I didn't know if he was cute or what. He would punch me lightly in the stomach every so often in a way that kind of turned me on, the thrill of violence. I escaped a couple times to go to the bathroom. Each time, I could hear another Smiths song coming from the main bar, some Morrissey theme to the night seemingly. I kept thinking I was at the wrong party. Will someone please make a gay Smiths night somewhere, please?
Every time I came back to the party, I would linger in back, taking in the scene, trying to eye friends through the darkness. Somehow in the darkness, this guy kept finding me. I couldn't escape him. He was nice and so I wasn't trying too hard to do so. Also keep in mind that I was stoned and had very little social skills as such to try to extricate myself from this situation. I kept on eyeing people I had crushes on but was unable to pursue them as I had this person dancing against me all night. I saw an acquaintance, a beautiful man who I have a crush on. I decided that it would be a good time to dip out of this scene, that I didn't want my crush to see me grinding dancing against this person all night. I told the dancing guy that I was going to pee and instead left, another Smiths song I loved playing as I walked out.
I got a burrito from the Mexican truck on North 6th Street. There were packs of gays on the march, a Saturday night, people looking good, looking for sex. I had different priorities. I just wanted to go home and lie in bed and eat this burrito and dream about boys. In some ways, I get more pleasure from these imagined encounters with people, of what I might do, than the actual things, me leaving a bar where various crushes were because I was too stoned to shake off this one boy. It was easier to leave.
But let me tell you one thing, I don't regret the decision. If you had tasted that burrito, you would understand.