Friday night in San Fran

after diner my family dropped me off at the lesbian bar.  Drank a few margaritas and watched the women, think i was the only one wearing a white blouse, sort of a black punk 80’s thing seems to be going on here.  Discovered a lesbian bar isn’t that different in San Fran than Santa Fe, a single woman drinking by herself doesn’t get approached by other lesbians.  I had to do all the approaching.
a band of drunk 21 year old dykes escorted me threw the streets to a dance club - felt like the blind lead by the blind.  Time was altered during that walk, felt like three hours went by, but it must have only been an hour.  Don’t think I have roamed streets like that since my teens.
One of them, the cutest Mexican hipster from East L.A, gave me a sermon about the latest theories of love "opposites don't attract, got to find someone made of the same essence."  As she talked I just wanted to kiss her, her eyes exuded such innocence.  But she was “in love with the one.”  I couldn’t mess with that!
Became “lesbian mom” to two 19, maybe younger, also drunk, pretty gay boys.  They were all hands on each other, just met tonight; one was “celibate because he had already gotten 3 girls pregnant”.  I explained that I didn’t think he would get his latest friend pregnant and then checked their pockets for rubber; the celibate had his pocket full of them (not really a celibate in my experience if you’re walking around prepared).
Finally met up with a friend of a friend, a woman closer to my age, wow.  She took me for a lovely walk threw the mission and then over to Folsom, some gay male bar with a wild drag show, and made lollipops on the pool table.  Didn’t stay long enough for it to harden.  The quote above the table said, “how many licks does it take to get to the center of something.”  Exactly!

Saw this at the SFMOMA, sort of how i feel lately, that's Andy Warhol by the way