Oh, not that much, but a few Black Bitches (vodka/Diet Coke) to wet the whistle and loosen the inhibitions.
I wasn't looking for love, but the bartender kept staring at me - he was cute in a "bearish" type of way - you know, tattoos, hairy and beefy. He wasn't my type, but he kept my glass full and my face smiling with his jokes.
Later, he asked me out - but he had to tell me something: He was transgendered.
Transgendered? I was shocked. The man was butcher than anyone in the neighborhood...well, I guess that wasn't saying much since it was Chelsea.
Many of my friends are trannies, and I love them all, but a man with a vagina? I mean, my life is confusing enough.
In the end, I gave him my number - we are going to the movies on Friday.