If I didn't replenish my Homo Milk and Sweet Iced Tea tonight, I'd be one grumpy bastard tomorrow, so back out I went. Anytime I can pry myself away from the computer and go walking or biking I do, because recently, the notion of joining the world hasn't been an easy sell. Naturally this has to be Saturday night. The healthy cafeteria-like place had a line. The Country Italian place had a strange smell. I refuse to eat supper at a place named after a breakfast item. I had sushi on Wednesday. Pasta, salads and soups I can do at home.
I was about ready to commit to Mexican when I remembered there was a new Indian place I had not tried. I was a bit concerned Fajitas were featured but they had plenty of the regular dishes and Hayward's 5000 beer. It was suggested that vegetarian dishes can serve as good recovery meals, so I dove in.
The place had a good vibe so I didn't bitch about the contemporary minimalist decor. Back in Dallas in the 80's I was forever dragging friends to the Hare Krishna restaurant which was as ultra-exotic with its wax figure on an altar yet plain folks enough to get repeat business.
I'd exchanged emails earlier with a gent who very much wants me in San Francisco in two weeks. My problem is he's married: to a man. That's my hangup. He's keen for sex: the component I care least about.
But bigger issues weigh on me: issues I continue to ponder, but won't lose sleep over tonight. The food did the trick. I'm off to bed. My home is two blocks north and I'm fried. Namaste'.
I was about ready to commit to Mexican when I remembered there was a new Indian place I had not tried. I was a bit concerned Fajitas were featured but they had plenty of the regular dishes and Hayward's 5000 beer. It was suggested that vegetarian dishes can serve as good recovery meals, so I dove in.
The place had a good vibe so I didn't bitch about the contemporary minimalist decor. Back in Dallas in the 80's I was forever dragging friends to the Hare Krishna restaurant which was as ultra-exotic with its wax figure on an altar yet plain folks enough to get repeat business.
I'd exchanged emails earlier with a gent who very much wants me in San Francisco in two weeks. My problem is he's married: to a man. That's my hangup. He's keen for sex: the component I care least about.
But bigger issues weigh on me: issues I continue to ponder, but won't lose sleep over tonight. The food did the trick. I'm off to bed. My home is two blocks north and I'm fried. Namaste'.
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