when deciding what time to arrive at the Black Party keeps U occupied for a week, U know U have fallen off the deep end . . . DA and i opted for 2 a.m. . . . why toss and turn in bed with giddy anticipation when u can bump and grind on the dance floor? . . . the line in front of Roseland stretched all the way to Eighth Avenue . . . tho stern expressions were de rigeur, we were giggling like a couple of schoolgirls as we critiqued the outfits which, for the most part, were much darker than my camouflage pants and D's black nylons . . . this event is the only time it's ok to be tacky in our world i pronounced when one fellow, who clearly ordered his attire from International Male, strutted past in FLARED leather pants. . . inside, there were plenty of bareassed men wearing chaps and more harnesses than U would find in the stables at Belmont, instantly proving that clothes don't make the man, bodies do . . . only a muscular black fellow wrapped in silver chains who looked as if he belonged on an antebellum slave auction block provided any frisson (his loaded image flashed into my mind later that night during the Oscars, which were as much a celebration of black pride as acting ability) . . . U needed a crowbar to get on the dance floor and armor or a flak jacket once U got there to prevent the (metal) studs from ripping your flesh . . . somehow i managed to resist the lure of the back room upstairs which would have been more difficult to enter than a tight ass without lube . . . D found us around 5 a.m. and our X kicked in just as Victor Calderone's melody-free set was peaking . . . is he really playing the Doobie Brothers? . . . . are these slowdowns that regularly follow the hard driving beats drug lulls? . . . call me hopelessly unhip but i was longing to hear Cher's new single, "Song for the Lonely" . . . it would have given me more energy than any drug . . . fortunately Michael Fierman did not leave the crowd to its own devices when he took over the booth and reached back to the 80s for the Pet Shop Boys . . . was it a coincidence that the crowd began to thin? . . . no matter, it shortened the line to piss, and left more room to dance, to rest and to set your sights on somebody . . . while D and i were avoiding the guys who had engulfed DA (no amount of free K could have enticed me into that bridge and tunnel group), i spotted a familiar face thru the crowd . . . much to my surprise and delight, S recognized me after our single encounter in the meatrack last summer . . . i'm going back to the Paramount to rest up for the Equinox after party he explained when i reached for him . . . for the first time, i was sorry i hadn't bought tickets along with D and DA, whose tolerance for what i call excess always has been much greater than mine . . . a cute boy with a cumcatcher wearing a neck collar, harness and leather hot pants kept smiling in our direction . . . oh yeah, i know him from El Mirage said D . . . he expected ME to drive the bus . . . i interpreted that as permission to move in on him . . . at the same time some short guy in black sun glasses with nipples like thimbles moved in on me . . . will u do me a favor? he asked after putting my hand on his exposed but so-so dick . . . will u go down on me? . . . Thumbelina's plea left me nonplussed . . . lust has gotta be spontaneous for me, fella, especially on the dance floor . . . i turned my attention back to the boy in hot pants, who said he was from Barcelona . . . i held him from behind while we danced, pressing my crotch into his butt . . . do u square dance? he asked . . . your rhythm has a nice swing . . . then: would u like to see? before unsnapping and removing his pants . . . i couldn't wait to pull aside his jock and probe his ass, which had been pre-lubricated . . . my lust was definitely spontaneous this time . . . still, despite the anything-goes atmosphere, which included a humpy blond guy swaying next to us stark naked, inhibitions and D's proximity prevented me from fucking him . . . Barcelona boy removed a business card from his sock when it became evident i wouldn't be using anything on him other than my finger and tongue . . . will u remember me? i asked . . . u r the only guy i give my card to today he said . . . this response almost fulfilled my goal of picking up somebody so i decided to leave, utterly exhausted after dancing almost non-stop for nearly 13 hours . . . D had some crystal-fueled hottie from Laguna Beach in his clutches but when he invited him to go home, the guy said i don't leave with people i meet at these events . . . it's obvious that all three of us (DA had departed in complete disgust before noon) need to take remedial hook-up classes at circuit boy school.