I don't deal well with humidity, especially when combined with alcohol.
Alas, I didn't follow the warning signs and still went full throttle. (By the way, I am writing this with a hangover.)
It all really started when I was talking with Garrett and asked if he wanted to meet up for drink as he was in Chelsea at the time. Given the heat, I had to wear a tank top out of reasons for preserving my body temperature more than any "look-at-me" logic. Unfortunately, it made me look like a hustler. I have never felt so stared at in my life (and this is after acting completely nude in a short play). It would've been a good thing had I actually been in the mood for sex, but frankly, I was more in the mood for air conditioning.
After saying goodbye to Garrett at Barracuda (Kill Bill vol. 1 was playing, and we both are squeamish when it comes to gore), I made my way over to Splash. Again, nearly everybody there was wearing a shirt, and to be honest with you, I felt like I looked like a hooker. (Of note: Splash played "All Over The World" from Xanadu. Wow, I never realised how campy that film was.)
I subsequently went over to Rawhide, and I can only tell that due to the prominent "Rawhide" stamp on my wrist. What I cannot tell you is what happened while I was there, nor how long I stayed, nor how I wound up back at my apartment with a 3 uneaten slices of pizza.
I woke up this morning at 8:30 (relatively late for me) and dumped the pizza out. Unfortunately, I didn't bother to put any pants on while on my journey to the "refuse closet" in the hallway. Having successfully dumped the pizza down the chute, I thought I could easily dash back to my apartment. Alas, someone chooses that time to go out to the elevator, leaving me stuck in the trash room until they go. (I don't know my neighbours and I really don't want their first impression of me to be of a bleary-eyed man in his boxer shorts.)
At least if I was a whore, then I'd have some money to comfort me.
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