Now folks, I haven't danced since . . . . . . um . . . the 1980's. I wasn't sure if this old body was up to all those gyrations required to qualify to step on the dance floor and shake my booty. Guess what? After a few missteps I fell right into the groove. Now granted I do the "Elaine Dance" (refer to the Seinfeld episodes where Elaine THINKS she can dance), I did it! Of course My Host was a bit surprised by my energy and abandon but I cleared the dance floor when I did my Michael Jackson moon walk. My Host even whipped out his . . . iPhone to video the massive display of ego he was witnessing right in front of his very eyes.
Look closely folks, and you can see yours truly getting on down in his Mr. Rogers "It's All Good in the Neighborhood" tee shirt. How about those electric lights zapping all over me? Way cool.
So what did I think of "Zippers"?
|My Host and I out in front of Zippers last night|
I was impressed. Only two complaints. The drinks at $6.75 (a very modest gin and tonic, my Bar Drink) was a bit pricey. And the piano player singing Broadway show tunes (what is this fascination of gays with Broadway show tunes anyway?) was in a word: AWFUL. Loud isn't talent. Other than those two minor distractions (and the hunky Indian - or Muslin security guy), we had a wonderful time. And even better, we didn't have to drive back to My Host's home, we took the trolley. Ah yes, I remember the days when I first came out in Pittsburgh (1963) and I used to take the trolley home after a night at the A.V.A., THE Pittsburgh gay bar. Back then after a night of shaking my booty I didn't ache as much as I did this morning. Time marches on and I can still act like a fool but I am having a grand old time.