Disbarred.

My friend Larry called me up just now and recommended some new bar named Amsterdam to me. He said it would be the sort of place I would find "interesting." I asked him why he thought that, for I don't think I've been to a gay bar in over six months.

"You go to Burkhart's," he said to me.

"I've not been to Burkhart's in months, and the only reason I went there, really, was because my friends work there," I said.

The last time I went to a gay bar, Larry was with me. It was the middle of the afternoon at one of those giant-video-screen places with the deafening music. I am no longer attractive enough to consider it a good thing that I'm the most attractive man in a room. Thus, the experience was dismal.

Taking under consideration how I got drunk on New Year's and ruined Larry's bathroom rug, I'm kinda anti-bar. I just don't really enjoy it, whether drinking or not drinking.

I've heard Larry's new bathroom rug is really nice. I don't know, though, if it's absorbent.