so many circuit parties, so little energy . . . U know it's gotten out of hand when U see yourself coming and going . . . i spotted Doppelganger almost immediately, somebody i’d seen at the White Party in New York, danced with at the Black Party and ignored at the White Party in Palm Springs . . . finally time for a blow job or a smile, i guess . . . guess which one Doppelganger returned at Cherry Blossom 8 in DC? . . . the solidarity of the circuit remains, even with the economy in the toilet . . . this time D and i had a new, most unlikely buddy in tow: C, who wanted to know what shoes to wear as we were driving through Georgetown in his new Passat, looking very much like well-heeled older gentlemen who should be fast asleep by 11 p.m. somewhere in Dupont Circle . . . that's not the kind of question u should be asking the afternoon before a major party sneered D who, by the way, was the only person all in white that night . . . i had the foresight to bring a bright red Russell t-shirt, something i would normally wear only to work out . . . nobody will know it's not Prada, said C . . . as if! . . . i would have made bet that C would back out at the last minute . . . it's not that i don't want to do X, he rationalized as we all gorged on bowls of Chunky Monkey back at his sublet which stimulated a stern lecture from D on appropriate circuit boy diet . . . u know i'll try it as soon as i retire but right now, i just can't . . . the prospect of a lie detector test dissuaded him from taking a happy pill with us even after i insisted that that "they" couldn't test for X . . . surprisingly, he persevered . . . D insisted we go early to hear Brett Henrichsen whose set, according to all the gay rags, promised to be "lighter" and because the party ended at 6 a.m, D's preferred time of arrival . . . security at the new convention center was tighter than the abs on a Men’s Health cover model . . . the volunteer who checked our driver's licenses put a smile on D's face . . . i never would have guessed he purred, referring to D's birth date with $60 worth of insincerity after tearing his ticket stub . . . when a guard instructed me to remove everything from my pants pockets, i had a moment of panic, regretting my offer to stash our drugs after D's tiny plastic container spilled open in his crotch before leaving the house . . . .fortunately the guard's wand didn't pick up the pharmacy i had secreted in the tiny pocket of my jeans . . . after Palm Springs, D had asked his doctor to prescribe both Viagra and Ambien, which i was carrying along with the controlled substances that could have landed me in the pokey . . . it probably was a good thing that we arrived as early as we did even though it appeared as if only a dozen oddly dressed people had stumbled into an airplane hanger . . . there are lots of guys older and fatter than me here observed C, not for the last time uttering the circuit senior credo . . . our point exactly! cried D and i as we led him to the dance floor . . . but i'm still not taking my shirt off he added quickly . . . by midnight a bumper crop of glistening pectorals had sprouted around us trying to keep time to the music even as it skipped not once or twice but at least half a dozen times . . . Henrichsen compensated for the technical difficulties when he played a fabulous remix of Madonna’s "Mother & Father" which allowed D to demonstrate his uncanny ability to identify music on the dance floor, if nowhere else . . . somehow, drug-free C managed to keep up with us and even attract a crowd: at one point i noticed we were dancing in the midst of several men who hadn't removed their shirts as D and i already had done much earlier . . . look, u have created a shirt oasis i shouted . . . when a circuit party becomes more memorable for phrasemaking than anything else, maybe it's time to take a break . . . C left shortly after the dj change but D and i grooved on Superchumbo's much darker beats until 5 a.m. hoping for an invitation from one of the sweaty cliques that surrounded us with bright eyes and pearly smiles . . . it's all there for the taking, i reminded myself, but the fact that nearly everyone appeared to be a generation younger than me was inhibiting . . . i couldn't believe that D, a bitter-end kind of guy, agreed to leave or that he gave me the couch when we got back to C’s place . . . not that i got much sleep, however: he awakened me twice, once muttering let the people in London worry about the pots and then when he got up and began ransacking my backpack looking for god knows what . . . who knew that Ambien was hallucinogenic? . . . bedraggled, we caught the 10:20 a.m. train back to NYC after waking C to thank him for letting us crash . . . next year, we're going to do this differently D said as he handed off his head phones to let me hear the Gloria Gaynor track from the Palm Springs White Party collection he had purchased and to call D to let him know that he had identified the song that had had all of us ecstatic 10 hours earlier . . . next year? what about next month in Orlando? . . . i'll bet Doppelganger already has his flight booked.