i called andymonkey, who i hadn't seen since december, and made plans. he'd be at work until 10.30-11pm. iI was already in minneapolis at 7. i parked my car near hotel de andy, and called any- & every- one within the mpls city limits and my mobile's phonebook as i walked the 5 or so blocks to the holiday station on 21st&Franklin. someone please come out with me until andy's done with work, i whimpered to the point of almost-succumbing to defeat. but then a matt agreed to come out [what number this matt is 1,2,3,4,5 ...("there are sooooo many matts here..." said drunk and/or stoned bethany)... is not important and frankly, i've lost track].

we went to Boom!, which i've never enjoyed, especially since Nye's is just down the street and a much better time with Ruth Adams and the World's Most Dangerous Polka Band and that crazy pianobar lady! but Boom! it was--the video gaybar wherein i feel that my collar is not NEARLY white-enough to mix and mingle (were i the consorting type). we arrive at 10. matt buys my drink. andy texts me to say he'll be there to pick me up (I took a cab from Seward to NorthEast) at 11ish. I begin to suspect matt of thinking this was a date when i offer to buy the second round and he refuses. softcore porn comes up on the plethura of swanky flatscreens encircling the bar. I couldn't be more uncomfortable in all my life, partially because of the porn, largely because i hadn't paid for a thing...

thank heavens, 11pm! "i best go outside and wait for andy so he doesn't have to circle around the block more than once." we leave and meet andy just outside the door. matt walks to his flat, andy and i walk to andy's truck.

and we go to the saloon... on a thursday night ["chicken night"]. ew, ew, ew. andy wants to dance. i say -okej. but i'll need a lot more whiskey to tolerate being the fairest flower on the wall.

i go the entire night at the saloon a) without setting foot on the dancefloor, b) without being drinkless, cigaretteless c)without getting hit on [not even by the decrepid sorts that normally knock on my door constantly][in some really sick and twisted way, this causes my ego&esteem to plummet for about 2 hours], d) part-timely discussing politics in the area between the pooltable and side bar with andy.

terribly uneventful, all in all. until ....

THIS! happened. but once the awe&fanaticism wore off, it's just the big&sore reminder that i shouldn't go near boom! nor the saloon, especially in the same night, e-xtra-specially if that night is thursday--the great "I TOLD YOU SO."

as i limped into the birchwood for brunchish lunch with andy, my hole-y jeans with goodsized bloodstains, the makeshift bandage of mega-plied toiletpaper and hardly-adhesive surgical tape, i felt tough. like, "you should see the other guy" tough. "don't mess with texas" sorta tough. yeah.