Food & Drink » Barfly

Of An Evening

In the springtime, a young woman's fancy turns to love, or something


Spring perfumes the air as I lightly run down 8th Street. Blue jeans clad couples stare at me as I skip by them. Prom couples adorn the streets like bright, colorful poppies escorted by tall, black beetles. My steps quicken and my heart races as I ascend up the escalator to the club.

Entering the double doors, I see only a few early birds surround tables talking and drinking. Approaching the bar, I spy the fresh hot young bartender and head for his station. "Sex on the Beach," is his answer to my request for a sweet, pleasurable and sassy drink. Feeling flirtatious, I tell him of my recent escapades and he comments on my being wild and crazy. I smile, heading back to my table and eyeing the room like a predator keeping tabs on future prey.

I spot my gorgeous friend at a tall table. I apologize for being late and we catch up on the gossip of the hour. I decide on the spur of the moment to have a party later in the week. As I make invitations on little cocktail napkins, I decide whom to invite. An enticing victim approaches and I give out an invitation. Even though my prey is working, we find time to discuss a beer bottle, a whip and dark places. Like any creature of the night, I enjoy feasting, but the chase only occurs once and is a thing to savor. Attractive people stand around evaluating the surroundings and the dance situation. No one really dances until everyone does, and tonight is hit or miss--only every other song is worthy of attention. Once, a friend made the observation that clubs could pay beautiful people to dance--wouldn't free drinks be adequate compensation? Every 30 minutes, I loop around the dance floor, out to the patio and back to our table. Now I see acquaintances everywhere to stop and gossip with, dancing to the energetic catchy hip-hop in between. I continue handing out my cocktail napkin invitations and several people comment on my thriftiness.

Finally, at around midnight, the crowd decides to be lively and the panorama suddenly brightens. My favorite drag queens are visions of splendor wearing sequins and feathers. As usual they are all legs and flashy heels. I wander aimlessly looking for the perfect prey for a late night rendezvous--regrettably, to no avail. Heading home, I think about how in springtime, many buds can be found. However, the time will eventually be right to pick the flowers.