"That is just so wrong," my friend Tim Miller said about the fellow next to us dancing solo on top of a pool table.
We were waiting in a beer line at a "bear bar," the Lone Star Saloon on Harrison Street Sunday afternoon, early refugees from the crowded Folsom Street Fair a block away.
"Would you care to expand on what's so wrong?" I asked Tim, who was looking good in his leather harness over a bare chest. "God, where to start? Skinny vs. large, dancing vs. not dancing, young vs. old, smooth vs. hairy, methedrine vs. marijuana, past vs. present. He's just wrong."
8 comments:
Oh, I can think of something even more wrong than that -- "me" in my skivies dancing (never did learn how) on the pool table.
Dear Donald: Nah, I'm sure you would be great gyrating in your skivvies on top of a pool table, though this particular saloon is NOT about that kind of narcissistic display, which is part of what made it seem so weird.
I thought that the Folsom Street Fair was a time when "anything goes?" and gyrating on a table was not even that unusual. But it's obviously not my scene even though I was down there on Sunday to deliver my painting to the gallery for the upcoming Open Studios.
Love this!
looks right to me...
Dear AlbGlinka: He's probably right for a lot of people's tastes, but sometimes context is everything.
The burly Larry the Cable Guy dude at the right seems fairly disinterested!
Dear AlbGlinka: Yeah, you got it.
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