...And it all ends up Nowhere

Day 33/34.......It's about 12:20AM Saturday night and for the past 4 hours I've been putzing around the apartment, sitting on my ass, endlessly grasping through the depths of Youtube when I decide it's Saturday night and I better make something of it! I take a deep breathe and spring from the couch with a defiance to beat the idea that I should probably just stay in. I pull on my shorts, find one of my remaining t-shirts that hasn't made it to the Laundry bag yet and swivel out the door. A few nights ago I went to Eastern Bloc and had a pretty rowdy evening so I figured I jump down there knowing the place holds quit a scene on Saturday nights. I arrived at the entrance and chatted with the door man as he's become a familiar face throughout the East Village and the gym. I go inside and it's too packed for me confirm on this venue for more than one drink. I snuggle and elbow through the crowd and order a Heineken and suck it down as if it's oxygen to an astronaut's suit. I drink quick and decide it's already time to go. I step outside and continue speaking with the doorman and bum a smoke. I bid farewell and head up a few blocks to The Phoenix to check the scene there. The bar is semi-packed but I order a Stella draft anyways and take a seat in the sideroom. I am wearing a Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master t-shirt and the guy sitting next to me strikes up a discussion on his favorite Elm Street movies from best to worst. Oddly enough, the second was his second favorite whereas I'm all about 1-3-4-5-6-2. In my honest opinion, 2 is definitely the throw away movie and we both agreed to not even consider Freddy Vs. Jason. Suddenly his phone beeps and I lose my Horror-fan friend to text message world and use that as my cue to either go home or ask the streets if there is anything left in the night. It's only 4 blocks to Nowhere bar and knowing some of the people there I decide what the hell? I might as well get a scotch.
Nowhere is nearly deserted but I look at the open space and empty stools as respite from having to move or think that I might need to be somewhere else. I order a Dewars on the rocks and nibble on the bowl of popcorn next to me. Out from the pool table emerges a very graceful and stylish man, sashaying and paying compliments to everyone on his way toward the bar. He takes the stool next to me and introduces himself as Gary. I compliment him on his boutonnières and how it must come in handy during the humid New York summers. I take the cloth from his jacket pocket and wipe his brow with it. He smiles and invites me to have a cigarette with him. In front of the bar and nearing 3AM Gary, in a sweet and let-me-tell-you-honey manner, divulges stories of his upbringing and how the love he had growing up makes him the successful and confident man he is today. I enjoy listening to him and get off on the realization that no matter who you are or what you do, everyone has an upbringing and with that comes the stories of how and why one is the way he is. The conversation comes to a halt when Gary notices a friend of his leaving. He politely excuses himself and air kisses his friend a safe night home. With my cigarette now long gone there isn't much to do except exchange a handshake and call it a night. I thank Gary for meeting him and sharing his stories with me and wish him luck. He wishes me the same and as I head east on 14th St I leave behind me a night which started from and ended in, Nowhere.