I have to piss but am afraid. I am afraid of what will happen if I take the last gulp from my beer, stand up and quietly walk past the assortment of Chantilly laced and leathered men to the restroom. Call me dull-witted, naïve or just distracted but, yes, here I sit in what appears to be a... a gay bar.
Yeah, yeah, I guess it's my own fault. Perhaps I was a bit rude to the desk clerk as he spent nearly fifteen minutes checking me in and yes, after that it wasn't the best idea to ask him where I could find a good place to get a few beers. I just ignored the sly smile as he rubbed his finely kept beard and told me of Barry's Place. The slightly muffled laugh I heard as I headed for the revolving door s should have warned me.
Instead, I walked several blocks to the flashy neon beneath some artsy awning and, without paying much attention to the people, I found an empty table and sat down. It wasn't until I was halfway into my first beer that I began looking around. I noticed there were a lot of good looking guys, well dressed and well groomed, but what I didn't see were the sharp looking women with these guys.
It seemed odd, but I had to finish my first beer and order my second before I snapped. Okay, okay, I should have figured it out back when the hot pants and halter wearing waitress with a beard took my order for the first beer, but hey, I got the message.
Anyway, what do I do now? If I get up and head to the restroom I know exactly what will happen...
