Saturday (last night) around 9:30 PM -- W&W loop report
Spent the afternoon with a young civvie and hit the bars for the early evening. Not much fun these days, the bars, since you can only drink so much before you risk a DUI, and I was in the wrong bars. The ones to the east, pushing towards Highlandtown as you run out the Boston St. Corridor, feature older gals desperate for a little warmth and human understanding. I was stuck on a hard stool by the no-nothing twenty somethings who are more intent on their cell phones than their surroundings.
Headed home. Turned onto S. Carey from Washington Blvd. Nothing on the way up to Ramsay except for the current vexing street construction. It was uninviting, cold hard streets, and even the tall caramel boy who poses as a girl had abandoned his usual stoop. Plenty of nothing on Ramsay up to the circle. Just empty. And then, bang!, six or seven WSW and one BSW lounging about, spilling onto the Ramsay split and down S. Mount St. The BSW was on Mount, just ten yards off the circle, and really strutting her stuff. Looped around, another WSW at Mount and Cole, strutting hard. But therein lies the problem.
When it is this cold, and visibility is a challenge, it is very, very hard to judge new talent. And certain of the standard old faces were there, too, of course, yet while there was some comfort in knowing what lay under those heavy winter jackets, there was also the fatigue of familiarity. No thrill to the chase when it comes to the dentally challenged, saggy, needle shocked and saggy ones we all know. Was itching for some fresh clean slender young meat to take to the notel for a strip and suck and shag session, but it was just a labor beyond my flagging energies (it had been a long day, and I had killed the afternoon banging out that young AA civvie I mentioned before) to ferret out a fresh face and go through the preliminaries. I hate the prelims, but one must follow the proper protocols.
Uncle appeared to be in absentia, but it was still so cold, so dark, so unpromising. It's infinitely easier in the daylight, on a warm day, when they can show you their wares and you can savor their spaghetti straps before you make a commitment. After the circle, running west on the circle up to Millington and beyond, there was only one old fuggly. Called another civvie from my cell, had her meet me at my home, and we spent the night in semi-glorious abandon. She just left after a morning bang. Still, the itch remains for someone new and entirely unknown. The itch that abides, and never abates.
Anyway, I bring you this report bereft of action simply because, give or take a bit, these girls follow certain patterns, and Saturday night at 9:30 appears to be a propitious time for the hunt. Dark loops better than empty loops.
