Saturday morning I awoke with my head throbbing lightly but otherwise not too badly hung over. The night before had been joyous. Cocktails at the St. Regis with Married Well, Mr. Well and the Republican followed by our standard “walking-dinner” through the Russian Hill neighborhood.

I was a little out of sorts, given the conversation I was engaged in with Mr. Edison just prior to my waking. Yes, Mr. Thomas Alva Edison, the famed inventor and I were enjoying a spirited debate about widely varied topics. The man is amazingly wise. Sadly, I awoke before he could finish his point about relationships, and love, so I’ll have to wait until we meet again in the dark of my dreams for him to complete it.

The trip was a bit of a blur, both in time spent and time lost. I saw too much, did too much, and holy shit, drank too much. Saturday night was the worst for our drinking. We began innocently enough in the lobby bar at the Four Seasons over a Chopin martini stuffed with the most sublime blue-cheese olives covered in a light olive oil marinade, prior to moving the celebration back to the roof top deck of the Republican’s flat where we chatted about life, work, the past and the future while taking in the views of the bay, the Golden Gate Bridge and the hills and mansions of the Pacific Heights neighborhood.

Once we were joined by the Crazy Redhead (I use this term endearingly) we sat around the table chatting, enjoying a few bottles of wine and some fantastic Trader Joe’s treats. The night was about to go downhill. We decided to meet TLBO out at a local gay bar in the Tenderloin called DECO for the ‘Bear-A-Cuda’ theme night where the Crazy Redhead was trying to pick up a half deaf/blind blonde boy from the group of men we joined. When someone interrupted her to inform her she was talking to his deaf side, she promptly switched sides with him. The party split up and the girls wandered off to find their own kind of fun leaving me to hang out with TLBO and the rest of my people.

The rest of the night, bits and pieces float through my memory, but nothing overly memorable until late night/early morning when it was time to make my way back.

I placed the first call at 3:43am and proceeded to call every other minute until 4:43am when she finally answered my call and buzzed me into her apartment. In the hour between, I was approached by a 6’7” black tranny hooker named Grace. who attempted to befriend me but when she stated her name, I returned with “full of grace, full of grace, He has risen! Full of grace, full of grace, HE has risen!” leaving a look of confusion on her face as I continued on my way. I also managed to locate a pizza place and purchased the last pizza they made for the night. Happily walking, and chewing on the thick doughy pizza I wasn’t even upset that I still hadn’t reached the Republican by phone and the chances of me spending the night on a park bench seemed almost a sure thing since I didn’t have keys to her place. I waved away a homeless man asking for a piece of pizza telling him “NO!, I’ve been drinking all night and I’m really hungry and I’m eating all of this”. A block further I realized I was but a paycheck away from his predicament and should have obliged him a slice, since I now had no plan to eat the entire thing but I couldn’t locate him and continued on my way.

I walked around for a solid hour calling every few minutes, until I finally called her business cell phone line and she picked up on the second ring and buzzed me in.

“Full of grace, full of grace” became out mantra the rest of our visit.

Thank you Republican for your hospitality and friendship. That thing we talked about… I’m working on it.