What's the difference between a blonde and a washing machine?

A washing machine won't follow you around after you drop a load in.

What do you get when you turn a blonde upside down?

A brunette.

How do blonde brain cells die?

Alone.

Sorry, there were a lot of blonde jokes last night that tickled me. Silly, but they stuck with me.

Last night, LaToya and I went out for a big night. I met her over at her place and we had a special treat before cabbing it over to the biggest gay bar in town with "The Nation's #1 Drag Show!" She'd never been and I hadn't been in ages -- and I knew she'd love it. We wanted to see the show, of course, and it's such a great place to dance -- good music and a big energetic crowd. Too fun. I'd dolled myself up, thinking all the while, well, this is a waste. I look amazing and I'm going to a gay bar! But I felt great.

After getting lost in the maze of rooms and bars, we finally found the theater just in time to snag a table in the front. The first show was such a blast, we stayed for the second one, too. The crowd was huge and loud and the mood in the room lifted my spirits just the way I had hoped for. My favorite was Mokha Montrese, a beauty, to be sure. I had a big wad of ones when I got there and I don't seem to have any now, so I'm not sure how much money I gave her, but she got most of mine. I was determined to get a kiss, which I didn't get the first time, so I had to keep going back, now didn't I? LaToya was more into Simone. But she wouldn't line up to give the dancers the money like everyone else -- she would wait until Simone shimmied over to our end of the stage, then scurry up, thrust the money at her, and then scurry back to our table with a big smile on her face. So cute.

She also kept my vodkas coming at a furious pace, so I had a bit of trouble making my way back and forth to the stage in my heels. Somehow, I managed to keep my balance. But I was worried about the second part of the plan -- dancing!

After the second show, we ventured back toward the huge dance floor to see what was up.

Turned out I was in for a detour.

You know how disconcerting it is when someone comes up to you and greets you as if you know one another, but you're not sure who they are? A beautiful boy approached me and hugged me and said, "hey, how ARE you?" in just that way. I couldn't take my eyes off him, and I knew I had never met him before. So I played along, to keep him there a bit longer. His smile was dazzling, his body unbelievable. His eyes were locked in on mine and I'm sure I was grinning like an idiot. We played the game for a couple more minutes, and then he grabbed my hand and started walking.

A minute later, we were in a dark corner, me pressed up against the wall, his body pressed up against mine. Another minute later, the clothes were undone and half off, and we were going at it, with hundreds of people right around the corner, dancing, shouting and singing. It was so freeing, so erotic, I was flying. At first, time seemed to speed up, and then it was in slow motion. I felt steady on my feet, unlike before, as he spun me around to face the wall. It's true: You can't always get what you want, but sometimes you do get what you need.

I had been thinking earlier in the evening about how it could be that men can go through a major break-up and immediately start fucking whatever they can catch, seemingly with no need to gather themselves or sort through the pain first. I could never do that. I haven't done that. This was the first time for me since my separation and I never saw it coming, but it turned out to be perfect. No time to think about it first, no awkwardness, no lies or promises or any of that. Just me and him. Just lust.

After we got ourselves put back together, we were both too breathless to speak and with one last look in each other's eyes, we walked off in opposite directions. When I found LaToya again, and told her what had just happened, she squealed, jumped up and down, and squeezed me so hard, it hurt. She dragged me onto the dance floor and we stayed there until we were both about to drop from exhaustion. Plus, my legs were shaking and the room was starting to spin. It was a relief to get out into the cold air, and then into the cab. For some reason, there was another passenger, a man who kept saying, "My name is Earl." And the driver and LaToya and I spoke French all the way back to her house -- I have no recollection of how that got started, but it's very weird how foreign languages come easier to me when I've been drinking. I'll have to make a mental note of that for my next vacation.

We were too wired to sleep, even though it was about 4:00 by this time and we were so tired. We stayed up talking about life, and men, and how life surprises you, or you surprise yourself, and she talked me down when I started to freak a little about what had happened. I finally fell asleep on her couch, stayed there for a couple of hours, then snuck out to speed home to retire to my own bed with my thoughts.