Sunday, March 30, 2003 - 12:46 p.m.

11:10 a.m. I�m lucky because I not only live in a condo that has a pool inset in the large courtyard of the building but I live in one of those Spelling "Melrose Place" type buildings where people actually use the pool. On any given 80 degree plus day you can find a variety of good looking uber fit 20 or 30 something�s lathered up in the latest fad sun cr�me, sprawled out, arms and legs akimbo, atop of the dozen or so lounge chairs pointed toward the sun and reclined to optimize the tanning process. Not unlike a visit to my childhood community pool the place is abuzz with a variety of music leaking from headsets placed upon towels while their owners make the rounds mingling and flirtatiously exchanging condo gossip of who�s who and what�s what and who�s doing what to who. Barely clad in the newest of skimpy beachwear a couple of the Adonis�s cannonball into the pool. However, in a flash, all eyes are on me as I trip over a garden hose while self consciously making my way from the parking garage to my unit. Luckily, if there is such a thing, I didn�t hit the ground ungracefully. Within an instant, amongst the stonehearted giggles and sympathetic oohs and ahs, M-Man was there with extended hand lifting me up from my humiliation.

11:14 a.m. M-Man, M-Man, M-Man. How can I possible use only words to describe him? M-Man�s the guy that gay men hope they look like on a good day but settle for lucky that that�s the gay man who lives next door. A personal trainer, 6�3", smart and built. But all that hunkiness of twisted steel and sex appeal is second to the fact that he�s the nicest guy you�d be lucky to meet.

11:16 a.m. Having collected the majority of my strewn belongings I being searching for one missing sandal.

11:17 a.m. Maybe I should just pretend I only had the one and wonder if anyone would notice.

11:18 a.m. For some bizarre reason M-Man walked me to my front door perhaps to be there to witness another tumble or maybe just to ensure I don�t.

11:19 a.m.

M-Man asks: You coming down to the pool?

Garloo thinks: Say what? Me get three-quarters naked in front of a bunch of people who know me? What would I wear? Where would I sit? Would I apply my Coppertone SPF 8 inside the privacy of my own bathroom or slather it on poolside? Do I have to go in the water? Will I be the palest one there? What if no one talks to me or wants to gossip with me? What if I burn? Do I even own a beach towel? What CD�s would I listen to? Do I remember anyone�s name? Do people ask other people they live with to put lotion on their back?

Garloo says: Maybe.

M-Man responds: If not, I�ll see you later.

Garloo thinks: What does that mean? Is he going to pop by later? What for? For what? Is there some condo party tonight that I don�t know about, haven�t been invited to, purposely been excluded from? Does he wanna grab dinner? Is he asking me out? Am I even his type? What would I wear?

Garloo says: You got it.

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