I can’t get an appointment until next Thursday a.m. In the meantime, my molar will have to wait. I was gripped with such irrational fear over the whole thing that I could barely get out of bed this morning. Fortunately this place seems to have its own HIV-related dental clinic, so I can only hope the care will be good. Be gentle with me. Please.

To burn off nervous energy I spent my lunch hour at Gym #2, the hetero one (well, mostly). It’s like a wet dream in there, machismo hovering in a thick cloud over the weight room. Walking distance from the UPS hub, and count ‘em, three Airborne Express and two Fed-ex trucks in the parking lot. Hence, delivery men. Mucho delivery men. Watching a hoochie mama in a thong walk into the free weight area is like seeing a lamb dropped in a wolf den. Us gay boys are like a secret shameful society in there, “Yeah, I know you’re one. But don’t be obvious about it.”

Such a refreshing change from Gym #1, which is so gay ghetto it’s more obnoxious than the machismo.

After my half hour on the treadmill my endorphins came back and I’m a little more ready for life again. And I do believe I’ve replaced five pounds of fat with five pounds of muscle. Good boy.

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