And so to bed

I think mlr best summed up the experience when he said, "I'm not having a wild weekend, but I'm having a good one." We're not really part of the demographic that has wild weekends any more. At SoFo, clintswan and I talked about missed opportunities from our wild days. He summed up one of them with the words, "Maybe I should've had sex with him." "If you had had sex with him," I replied, "it would've been a different story, but not necessarily a better one. What if the sex had been bad? That would've been worse." Sometimes it's enough to treasure the possibilities.

Do I think too much about missed opportunities myself? I do, but I'm getting better. Every year I vow to regret nothing, and every year I come closer to succeeding. We had plenty of time to chat in line at Sidetrack, having shown up 45 minutes before opening in order to secure our place (and, thus, our choice location). The older daddy behind us (a friend of Rubeus) said that he only comes out about twice a year. "Just to remind people you still exist," I added and he agreed. That's mostly why I go out these days, too: To remind others I still exist and to remind myself who else does as well.

As Sidetrack began to wind down, both me and my best bar bud were too tired for much more, but too stimulated to just call it quits. I suggested Buck Burger Night at Big Chicks as the transition we needed: Still busy, but calmer, and something which exists every week, Bear Pride or otherwise. It was mobbed when we arrived, but clintswan scored seats in my old favoured location at the corner of the bar. None of the old gang was there, and I knew hardly anyone in the place. But the bartender remembered me, and the counterman remembered me so well he asked me to send him something I'd posted to Facebook.

I'm still not entirely content with my position in the social world; I still have a lot of entitlement to work off. But I'm getting there--with a little help from my friends.