met some of his boyfriends, although his work habits keep him unattached. Second, I know that Jason is Bi because he told me that – and everything else. Jason and I have a very special relationship, based in part on where we met – here in The Taverne, right under the sign that says “What is said in The Taverne stays in The Taverne”. Jason is not particularly a braggart, but his fiancée Lisa is in Mississippi and he is here, and he has had more than his share of short-term conquests in the two years I’ve known him (what Lisa thinks of all this- or if she even knows about it - I don’t know…) Jason often needs someone to talk to, and he knows that I, like The Taverne itself, keep quiet, so he talks to me about everything. I know all of the most explicit details of his weekend exploits during more than the last year – including weekends spent with Lisa. Most people would be disgusted by some of it, and by his cavalier attitude towards whatever commitment he has made to Lisa, but I am not one to pass judgment – especially since a lot of those very explicit details make it into the stories I publish in magazines like this one. The names – and a lot else - have been changed to protect the guilty of course, and so far no one has made any connections that I know of – what has been said to me in The Taverne has never yet made it out of The Taverne in any recognizable form. I buy Jason his drinks, he vents whatever he has to – mostly with glee, sometimes with anger, occasionally (very rarely) with remorse, and I get the material I need to supplement my income with stories that I don’t have to make up, based on experiences I’m not likely ever to have myself in Life. Everything’s a Transaction, according to most shrinkologists…

So, knowing what I know, I watch the mating dance that is happening before me, below the baseball game. At one point I hear Jason say to Jeremy, “Oh, I’m engaged – getting married next year” and watch Jeremy’s face fall as Jason shows him Lisa’s picture in his wallet. Then Jason stretches his lean, trim body elaborately and says “But, she doesn’t live up here, she’s down south, and she understands…” and gives Jeremy a look that makes him understand too, and Jeremy brightens right back up. They are both knocking back the frosty mugs of beer pretty well, and Jason has moved over to my vacated barstool to engage his full-court press more effectively – and it’s working, as it always does. Jeremy’s dreamy eyes are taking it all in, hook, line, and sinker…

Like I said earlier, The Taverne in the Towne is a neighborhood bar, and they close up early. The ballgame ends just about the time Last Call is given, and the few of us regulars still left pay up. Jason and Jeremy beam back to Earth and Jason says, “Hey, Frank, I’m sorry, we forgot all about you!” Jeremy also looks somewhat embarrassed, but I say “Not to worry – I was watching the game anyway” (they think I mean the baseball game….) We get outside and Konstantinos locks up behind us, and we say our goodbyes – at least I do. Jason is