Drunk again. Why? I was happy on the couch, reading Marlys with Sarah, but it was euchre night at the Blue Moon, so off we rode in the rain up and down hills, Sarah, Anne, and me, on a warm summer evening to meet Bruce & Connie.

We played with Petra, Sara, Marylou, Erin. Anne, being new, mostly watched, and Connie apologized for playing so spacey after trumping me--her partner.

As usual, I was the last to leave, and ended up drinking more pitchers of swill with Erin and her hotel worker friend, a self-professed asexual.

"Are you a repressed homosexual?" I asked, "Or sincerely disinterested in any intimate contact?" He then told me the story of his life. I have a feeling this wasn't the first time somebody spilled his guts in the Blue Room.

"I never told anyone all this before," he concluded.

"Probably because no one asked."

"Heh heh," he laughed. "Can I quote you on that?"

Too late. I'm quoting myself. Egad.