September 2nd, 1978
Suddenly, the weather changes. Today has been beautiful. Washington is so beautiful in those rare blue skied days when the air is crisp and clean.
My weekend at Allan’s passes quietly– and somehow sadly. Although I’m not really sure why it should feel melancholy. I think I feel sorry for myself– my weekend of solitude and privacy.
I went out last night– late. Had a good time. It was fun to have the bars and apartment so readily at my disposal. Didn’t quite care if I made out or not. Perhaps that’s why I did. First Mr. P.’s and old friends. In the bathroom, getting ready to go out, I practiced holding my facial muscles in a sort of half smile. I think when I go out alone that I look morose and unhappy. After Mr. P.’s, I went across the street to the Fraternity House and almost immediately a swarthy guy named Tony (who had had a few) came over to where I was standing and in a matter of moments he was kissing and mauling me and inviting me to his apartment. Actually, I wanted to cruise his friend who was standing at the bar. I seem to be losing my taste for Latino types. I was only half interested in him (he asked me questions like “what do you like to do in bed…”) so I concocted a story of how I was waiting for a friend who was coming in for the weekend but I wasn’t sure whether he knew to meet at Mr. P.’s or the Fraternity House. So I told him to wait for me and I would run across the street and see if he was there.
That’s when I met Jack. The bar was nearly closing– I walked in and ordered a beer and stood at one of the little tables in the center of the room. I saw him right away. Standing a few feet from me looking wonderful in a white shirt. Our eyes met and he flashed me the most incredible big grin. I was charmed and in a moment he was standing next to me. We went back to his apartment and had a really nice evening together. Typical sex. It turns out that he works at The Prime Rib as a waiter and knows Rich, Russ’ former lover. This morning as I was leaving (he lives across the street from here) it was I who suggested we exchange phone numbers. I hated that leaving was so methodical.
All day I’ve been curious. Was it another trick? Or will he call? Was he interested in me? Does he want to see me again?
Who knows– I’ve managed to lose all my sophistication.
I’m walking around like a teen-aged girl with my heart on my sleeve– wanting so desperately to fall in love. Hating the aimlessness to my life. Drinking beer and listening to sad love songs.