July 21st, 1981

I stayed in tonight– no meeting. Last night I had another surprise attack of insomnia. I shouldn’t be surprised, with the enormous amount of caffeine I consume all day and into the night. I hate not being able to sleep. And it really takes its toll on me the next day. By mid-afternoon I was tired and grouchy and mildly depressed and couldn’t concentrate on my work.

The stifling heat has returned. Subways are like steam baths and a thick haze hangs oppressively over the city. Now I know why the weekend exodus to Fire Island is such an obsession with New Yorkers. I came home from work tonight and crashed on the sofa watching television– fitfully dropping into sweaty naps. About nine o'clock, Allan and I walked down to the Our Lady of Pompeii street fair. Carmine Street lit with bright decorations, the curbs lined with food stands and vendors and games of chance. At one end of the fair was a “round up” the carnival ride that revolves at great speed and then turns on its side– a ferris wheel at the other end of the street. The smell of food and charcoal smoke hung over the street. The evening air was cooled and moist by a thunderstorm earlier. The doors of the church were open. The altar blazed through the open doors, old women sat at tables in the back of the church and sold religious cards and medals. Allan and I strolled up and down the street. I played a game dropping quarters into a glass case in the hopes of causing accumulated quarters to drop through a slot and win them. Allan bought a cannoli. We made comments about all the handsome men. I groaned and pretended to weep whenever I passed a particularly beautiful man. Allan and I rode the Round-Up. He was on his way to J’s tonight– but he stopped at Boots and Saddles with me. Jules was there. Sitting in a corner looking forlorn. I went over and talked to him. Polite chat. I told him I had seen Wendy this weekend and that she had sent her regards. That was a lie. He seemed pleased. The bar is not crowded and I am bored at once. Even Allan and I seem to run out of conversation as we stand and stare about the room. The relaxed chatter out on the street gives way to the fixed rigidity of standing with a drink in your hand staring at a roomful of gay men staring at each other. I decide that I hate gay bars. We leave. I say goodbye to Allan and he heads for J’s. I head in the direction of home. The streets are busy and there are lots of beautiful men. I dread coming home to quiet night alone. I look through the windows of the Bagel– a couple of AA faces. On the street I see a couple more. We nod to one another. I go to Julius’. It is on the way home and I feel more relaxed there than at Boots. The air conditioning feels good and I stand at the bar and have a soda with a twist of lime. The crowd is boring and unattractive. Except for one dark beauty at the end of the bar. I stare at his beautiful face, his dark olive skin, his thick black mustache. God, just give me a man with a black mustache and I will give you my heart. He pays no attention to me and finally leaves. He is short and balding. I leave and meander down Christopher still not wanting to come home, but not being sure what I want. I head up Greenwich toward the restaurant I was at with Joanne last weekend– another gay AA hangout. There were no gay meetings in the Village tonight and the restaurant was quiet and empty. I went in. While standing at Julius’ I had actually enjoyed the music and conversation going on around me and had decided that bars have their place in life after all. Walking into Uncle Charlie’s I just hated the whole concept again. I had a Perrier quickly and walked home.

The superintendent of our buildings lives on the first floor with his brother. The super’s name is Jack, a young, rather surly man whom all the tenants seem to loathe. I’ve only met him once, and actually thought him likeable. I like smart-ass masculinity. He lives with his brother, who is a drop-dead hunk– tall, curly brown hair– gorgeous face, bright pearly teeth, brilliant smile. I see him often in the mornings when I’m walking Sadie– my heart always stops when I see him. He is a god. And he always has a quick friendly smile for me, which even further compounds my high school crush on him. I don’t know his name, although Allan and I met him when we were moving in– he bought the loon sister’s desk. Anyway, tonight when I came in, I saw him through the shutters, sitting in his living room at his desk. No shirt. My heart started to pound. I stopped and stared for a moment. An actual god. I came in and got Sadie, pleased at the excuse of walking her to enable me to stand on the sidewalk and watch the fabulous creature. As we passed in front of the window, he stood suddenly. He had only a towel around his waist. He crossed the room toward the window and grabbed his crotch with his hand. An innocent unconscious gesture that nearly caused me to faint. I walked away quickly with Sadie so that he would not see me. Any further efforts at window peeping were thwarted by two neighbors sitting on the stoop. I even came in and waited awhile and went back out for ice cream. I had to appear casual and could only glance through the window as I passed. The room was empty.

Wearing Allan’s glasses so as not to have to put my contacts back in, I just went outside. The apartment was dark. My love has gone out.