a quick, pre-emmy dinner date with jami at centosette; a quick, pre-closing workout at my ghetto gym; watching the abhorrent queer as folk with toby at his place; a nightcap at wonderbar. as i was walking home down 6th street between avenues a and b, i pass by a new bar and this guy sticks his head out and says hello. he's smiling so cherubically that for a horrifying split second i wonder if we've slept together. i ask him do we know each other? and he says no, he's just being friendly, followed by you look great. i thank him and bid him good night. keep walking, but then i hear several voices shouting wait! come back! he and his two friends want me to have a drink with them. deep breath, i could probably take them long enough to scream for help, you only live/love once, what good blog fodder it would be, we're off. they're from liverpool, and the young man named zack that first spoke to me lives in the neighborhood and does hair and makeup. it's not like i'm going to sleep with him. get to the bar, toss back a vodka soda (drink number 2 of the night, which is sadly more than enough for me), feel myself feeling less charmed than i was out on 6th street, and get home (alone) into my warm bed. see you in the morning.