I worked the front desk from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. today. The shift was slightly hellish, but at least I’m now at a point where I don’t feel like a complete asshole without a clue. I actually know what I’m doing. For the most part, at least. I’ll be honest, though – I think I’m worth more than this role. I find the job somewhat degrading at times. No small roles? Fuck that. At least it’s paying the bills. Not to mention the fact that I’m getting paid a lot more than other people doing the same job. The power of persuasion!

As usual, I made it through my day by obsessively checking every app on my phone, and talking to various boys on Grindr and Tinder. I met a guy visiting from Chicago this afternoon, and gave him tips on what to do in the city. I also put forth a basic effort in convincing him to meet up with me in the evening. We’ll see what happens.

When 5 p.m. rolled around, that meant it was time for After Hours. Amidst the influx of members that descended upon The Clubhouse for their hour of free drinks, the guy who hit on me at last week’s Beer Show arrived with his member friends. We exchanged some coy smiles as I checked his friends into the club from behind the desk, and also as the group got in and out of the elevator. Hmm.

After work, I had to pick up the car from Phillip’s place. As I was walking there, I got a message on Grindr from that Clubhouse guy. His name is Lex, but I’ve decided to call him Lexapro. Anyway, it turned out that Lexapro had always been the guy on Grindr. Last Friday, I thought I was talking to two different guys at the Beer Show. One I met online, and one I met in person. Nope. They were both Lexapro, and I was just drunk. At least that simplified things. The sad thing was that this wasn’t the first time I had created more relationships than actually existed. I blame the alcohol.

I got the car at Phillip’s, picked up Lauryn – who was going to spend the night at my place – and then started drinking and getting ready at the Witch Cave for Evan’s birthday pre-drink, which he was hosting at his condo. Lauryn didn’t come, as she was tired from a long day. I was an hour late arriving at Evan’s, but Dan was even later. It was what it was.

I had a really good time at Evan’s pre-drink. I quickly finished off a bottle of champagne, which was right around the moment – hehe “moment” – that Craig Martin walked into Evan’s condo yelling, “OKAY, WHO WANTS COKE? I’M GIVING IT OUT ONE TO THREE TIMES.”

The whole thing was caught on video. My face is pretty hilarious as I roll off the bed and ask, “Yay?” I ended up doing two lines with Craig, and then it was time to hit the streets. Except, that was never my plan.

The boys were going to Fly nightclub for a ticketed event tonight. Not only do I despise that club, but I was also very tired. I was either going to go home, or possibly visit a quieter bar. However, when the group got in line at Fly, I decided to stay and chat as they waited. Due to a mix-up at the door, I was waived through without the $20 ticket. I couldn’t pass up something free! The bouncer almost had my head, though. I got caught while trying to hide a champagne flute, which I took from Evan’s house, in a bush beside the club.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” the bouncer shouted at me. “Bring that over here!”

“What? You mean this isn’t Vegas? Rude!” I said, begrudgingly handing over my glass to the large woman who was glaring through my soul.

I walked through the doors and into the humid darkness of Fly. It was a complete fuck fest. Lest we forget, the last time I went to Fly was with Katya in 2012 – when we did that bad MDMA. I danced with the boys for a while, but I had to stay on the outside of the dance floor because of my foot.

Soon after arriving, I started receiving texts from the Chicago Grindr guy and Lexapro, both telling me that they wanted to come to Fly. I didn’t think either of them would actually make it, so I began persuading both guys at the same time.

For whatever reason, Evan’s boyfriend didn’t want to come to Fly tonight. I’d imagine that decision likely had something to do with the fact that the guy is pushing 40 and might have moved past his gay rave phase, but who can never be sure? As a result, Evan had an extra ticket, which he emailed to me as we were waiting in line. Since I never ended up using the ticket, I forwarded it to Lexapro.

Despite the Chicago Grindr guy telling me to, “have my dick ready” for him, I never ended up seeing the guy. I don’t know if he got into the club, and I haven’t spoken to him since. Looking at his profile picture again, I’m not sure what I was thinking. Actually, I think I was just really horny. Or drunk. Or coked out. Who knows?

On the other front, Lexapro ended up finding his way into Fly through a backdoor entrance. And, no. That is not code for anything. Lexapro snuck inside, never used the ticket I sent him, and we met up on the outskirts of the dance floor. This led to me ditching the guys, and dancing with Lexapro for the rest of the evening. It also led to me getting multiple messages from Evan at the end of the night, all of which were him flipping the fuck out on me.

The first issue Evan had was that he wanted me to reimburse his boyfriend for giving me his ticket. I explained to Evan that the ticket wasn’t used. He wasn’t happy about that, either. As if the ticket issue weren’t enough pettiness for one night, Evan was then mad because I had decided to spend my night with Lexapro when, “I invited you there for my birthday.”

Get off your fucking high horse, Evan. You have a boyfriend. You can get dicked down whenever the hell you want. Let me have this moment. Also, let me remind you that I was at a gay rave with my exposed, broken foot. I couldn’t be running up and down stairs, going into dark rooms, and dancing in the middle of a nut-to-butt crowd. I got stepped on multiple times tonight, and it fucking hurt. At least Lexapro was willing to dance with me in an empty corner of the club.

Oh, and who else did I fucking see tonight? Mr. Sudbury himself – Mike. The guy pulled me aside and accused me of never texting him back after our date last week. Good God. Note to self: if I am 32, at a gay rave, and accusing a 26-year-old of not responding to a text message – which was a response to my message in the first place – someone please stage an intervention. Also, I’m not sure if it’s due to too many hockey pucks to the face, but Mike needs to learn to breathe through his nose.

Anyway, that incident with Mike occurred while I was with Lexapro. It was awkward, to say the least. Nonetheless, I had a lot of fun with Lexapro at Fly tonight. He’s a music festival guy, which isn’t exactly the most attractive quality, but it meant that he was dancing like a fucking lunatic. I loved it. Lexapro was raving with such confidence that I actually thought it was quite funny. Confidence is so sexy. The guy even bought me a couple of drinks. I thought that was pretty sexy, too.

Having had our fill of dancing – and potentially breaking my foot even further – Lexapro and I decided that we would both go back to my apartment for a drink. The only problem was that Lauryn was going to be fast asleep in my bed, and I don’t exactly have a lot of space at the Witch Cave.

After tip-toeing through my apartment, Lexapro and I went into the kitchen and closed the door. I made us some drinks, we sat on the floor, and talked quietly. That lasted about five minutes, until I decided that the harsh overhead lighting was not going to work for me. I also didn’t want to sit on the fucking floor.

I left the kitchen, and passed Lauryn a pair of headphones.

“Wear these,” I said. “I’m going to sleep on the couch, and Lexapro is spending the night.”

To cover up any noise we were going to make, I also put on a movie. Charlie’s Angels, to be exact – one of my all-time favorites.

Now, I don’t exactly remember how things got started. However, I do know that Lexapro and I didn’t waste much time. We were very intimate, very quickly. We also smoked a lot of weed on the couch, and fed each other maraschino cherries. Or, rather, threw them into each other’s mouths.

Lexapro and I made out a lot. At some point, we also got naked. It was a good fucking night. I had a lot of fun. Neither of us got off, but there was a lot of sucking and rubbing involved – both of face and nether regions. Lexapro had an incredible ass. Damn.

As I think about this now, it sure as hell didn’t take long for me to meet someone through work. What was it? One and a half weeks to meet someone, and two and a half weeks for me to suck their dick? Not bad.

Eventually, it was time for bed. Or, time for couch, I guess. Lexapro and I fell asleep naked, sandwiched between my two Pendleton blankets, and with his dick resting between my ass cheeks. Sweet dreams!

Goodnight xo