What's Going On?

Several days ago, a guy from my past, Bruce, contacted me about coming over and "playing" (Oh, how I love these euphemisms!) with him. It appears that he is particularly enamored with my penis. I guess that's what you get when you grow so old that the looks are gone.

Bruce and I had a continuing sexual relationship several years ago. His partner, Jerry, found out, and that was the end of that. Jerry contacted me accusing me of interloping in their relationship. As far as it goes, that's certainly true, although I had no intention of having anything other than a casual relationship with Bruce, and how Jerry and Bruce managed their relationship was up to them.

Of course, the only story that I really heard was Bruce's story, and his story has enough inconsistencies that I can't entirely discount Jerry's outrage (as evidenced in several emails he wrote me). I felt bad that my indiscretion had caused pain to Jerry and Bruce. Bruce had not been entirely forthcoming about the nature of his and Jerry's relationship, but from both Bruce and Jerry's accounts, the discovery of Bruce's infidelity caused a lot of pain.

So fast forward to the present. Bruce assured me that he and Jerry had broken up, although they are still living together. On the basis of that, I decided that I would again have a sexual relationship with Bruce, because he is a pleasant fellow, and the sex is really enjoyable. While Bruce and I are having sex, he tells me that he and Jerry had a big fight last night! Bruce said, "I told him it's over." I am left wondering how much more Bruce has stretched the truth about Jerry. I hope this situation doesn't get pathological. Men, can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.

I got home from Bruce's around 1 p.m. Ron was cooking up a storm: chicken with sesame noodles or something. In any case, it tastes very good. A lot of chopping was going on. I calculated the points, and they are pretty astronomical, but I can live with that if I don't eat too much. We had them this evening for dinner with a tossed salad.

So I've been hungry all day, today. I think it's the diet. I ate four pieces of fruit. Whenever I got hungry, I grabbed a piece. I made some chicken stock, too. I had fixed the chicken earlier in the week (hence Ron's chicken dish...) as a lame coq au vin. That meant half a bottle of wine in the fridge for the next four or five months. Well, not anymore: I dumped it in the pot to make the chicken stock. It tastes delicious. I made about a gallon or so, boiling down everything on the chicken carcass that hadn't been already removed.

Tim came over around 7 p.m. so that we could go on up to Columbia and dance to Billy Harrison. I love his calling. The floor was okay, but two couples attended who respond very slowly. In the last tip, both of those couples were in our square. We broke down a lot. That was the only really disastrous tip, and even it was fun. Billy puts you through your paces, and he calls at a pretty good clip.