Isn't it common curtesy to at least attempt to imagine what the person you have ditched is doing while you are out? I didn't. I smiled at the bartender instead. Even the butch bartenders here are mind-churningly hot. So hot that the line between wanting to be someone and wanting to fuck someone is blurred. The cosmos help. There are two now behind the bar. The femme had told me once that they were going out. But i can't see any sign of affection between them. I dunno why but I watch their body language like a hawk. Maybe they have a rule here. A no flirting beyind the bar rule. I should come more often - everyone seems to know each other. The bartender who used to have dreads smiles at me and asks me how I am doing. She looks swedish with high eyebrows and a kind of soft but sexily tattoed body. The femmes will make me large combos, with an extra shotglass full of cool pinkness. At least it looks pink from here.

I have a crush on the dj. She sometimes bartends although i haven't seen her behind the bar in a while. I don't know why I like her. She comes down from her booth to slip money in the panties of the gogo dancer and whisper in her ear. I can't even decipher what i'm jealous of... her? the gogo dancer? the dollar bill? she is wearing a baseball shirt, white with blue sleeves. Her belly is showing, as well as her studded belt and tight blue jeans. ppp. She has a horrible haircut, like the karate kid - i think of that crazy haircut of eileen myles on the back of _chelsea_girls_, by robert mapplethorpe, with her long feathery hair. THere is somethign so geeky in that static 80's fluff, but i know that in movement, she must have been hot. When i look back at my drink, my two bartenders are talking. The butch is wearing a black hair piece, her blond curls curling out under the edge of it - her eyes are absolutely stunning. They are both holding the same glass, fingers entertwinged. I get chills