  So after urlLink chorus rehearsal tonight, I head to Sidetrack, and it's PACKED. I make only half a loop through the bar -- noticing how many extremely hot men are locking eyes with me -- when I run into Walt and his friends. We make small talk, and I'm just about to take off and continue cruising when up walks this adorable muscleguy. Adorable. Walt introduces us. His name's Matt.
I've always had a thing for the name Matt. So Matt and I make small talk. Cautiously. I can't tell if he's not interested or if he's as inclined as I am to become extremely shy -- and come off as not interested -- around guys he's interested in. But suddenly there's a touch. Then a couple touches.
Then the buddy-buddy arms-around-each-other thing. The arms stay. For a long time. He's definitely interested. We start talking about celebrities we were hot for when we were growing up. His list and mine have NO crossover.
Then the Stayin' Alive video comes on. I talk about how homely poor urlLink Donna Pescow looked in that movie. Matt actually knows who Donna Pescow is. MAJOR points. He also loved her TV show, urlLink Angie . EXTRA major points.
He also thought urlLink Robert Hays was hot on that show. BINGO! We have a match. Now not only am I hot for Matt, but I'm kinda liking him too. Friends come and go as we sit there. We never lose physical contact.
Hands on knees. Hands in pockets. Hands casually rubbing up and down backs. It's all good. Suddenly we're alone in the crowded bar. It's time to poop or get off the pot.
He's already mentioned he lives a couple blocks away. I just happened to have parked a block from his house. Perfect. We're all smiles and hands anticipating what the night obviously still holds for us. We kiss. A couple times.
Which you NEVER do in Sidetrack because people watch ... and people talk. Then it comes: He has to get up early. He doesn't want to start something he can't finish. Even if it's something perfectly honorable and chaste. He really has to go. He lingers, smiling at me with a huge grin and searching eyes.
We kiss a couple more times. It was great meeting me, he says. I'm really hot, he says. You are too, I say. He leaves. Without looking back.
We didn't exchange phone numbers. Even if we did, he wouldn't call. They never do. Because two-hour bar romances never leave the bar. I'm learning. 
