Not good...Not good, Batman!

I am in a Birdcage?! I am in a Birdcage. I became very aware of the fact that all anyone in the club needed to do was look up and there I was....in full red undies glory. I looked at my crotch....I had to...wouldn't you? It's not like I was wearing something that was meant for mass public consumption like a speed-o. My boys had a simple cotton patch and some not so new elastic between them and possibly getting arrested......and about 300 people. Had my boys been out? I don't know. It seemed way too late to be embarrassed but it's not as if I could just slink out a side exit...I was hanging in the air. My legs ached and my 24 hour hairspray gave up hours ago, succumbing to the enormous amount of sweat still coming off me. I had to look at my crotch again....yup, there I was....and I watched some of my sweat fall to the dance floor below me. Gross. It did strike me as funny that I thought I was glad I wasn't standing below me. And my legs ACHED.... what sort of acrobatics had I attempted? I was also still dancing, sorely aware that to look like I had just come out of a coma would somehow add negatively to my current situation. So, as my mind raced to catch up to reality, I kept dancing. Without the brave fuel of alcohol tho, I might as well have been trying to gyrate on a pair of rubber bands. I am pretty sure that this was not what I had envisioned when I left Castro with those Asian boys.

Even with all this going on, all this new info and sudden inundation of external data that I had just moments before been unaware of, you know what my main concern was? I was suddenly, hopelessly and uncomfortably sober. I remember thinking, "Why now?" When I most needed to be numb and blissfully ignorant, I was actually hyper alert and tuned into the series of humiliations not only going on...but the many that were bound to present themselves in the next few minutes. It also dawned on me that there was no way I was going to get a bartender to deliver a vodka on the rocks....I was going to have to figure a way to get down and try to look good doing it. Yes, I had my priorities straight.

I knew I had not hoisted myself up 20 feet above the dance floor. I also knew that I must have either consented to someones request to get here, or had somehow convinced someone to let me have the privilege. I scanned the horizon...there were three other cages within the club. All in descending heights, mine being the highest, and each gracing a different side of the stage....two in each corner. You could have started a chain saw and not heard anything above the music. Erasure was playing, "A Little Respect." Perfect. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew getting down wasn't going to be my biggest challenge. Getting home was, if I didn't find my clothes and my wallet. And if I did find my wallet, what were the chances of it having any money left inside. I didn't even remember how I came to be undressed, much less where I had put my things in this unfamiliar club. My only chance of getting down quickly was to get the attention of the boy in the cage about eight feet below and a little to the left of me. I had to take the leap of faith that he was not also in the same predicament as me and would know how to get me down. I honestly thought I was going to have to take off my underwear and in a stunt of athleticism I knew I was not capable of, toss them so they would pass in front of his eyes and get his attention. I hadn't worked out the kinks yet. I had very few options here....but I did have to pee.

TO BE CONTINUED.....