UNTITLED MASTERPIECE

Part One: BODIES

HANDS (Part Two)

Ian hadn’t been sure what to expect inside. Tippy had told him that since it was a mixed group that she chose a place for everyone, Tippy long hand for what Ian had heard called a “bi-bar”. She explained to him that the bar was divided in half, the bar on the right side was for straights and the bar on the left side was for the gays. There would be tables and chairs for everyone in their prospective, but the booths down the middle were for those who hadn’t made up their minds or just didn’t want to commit.

He had to admit that he expected something a little dark a sleazy like the few gay bars he had been to just for kicks in college, but this wasn’t like anything he had imagined. While the lighting was dark, the room and the carpet were light colored all, whites and gold’s. Everything was pristine, no smoke or the sound of shoes sticking to the carpet as you walked across.

Ian panicked for a moment when a woman came up to him and said, “Oh yes, Mr. Justyn. Right this way, everything has been arranged for you.” He wondered which side Tippy had arranged for him to be on. He wanted to head straight for the straight side, but didn’t want Blake to feel uncomfortable or left out.

As he looked around the room, he couldn’t really determine which side had the straight people and which side had the gay. He actually found it quite relieving and was pleased that not only were they seated in the center booths, but at a place where he could watch the comings and comings. He laughed a little at what a voyeur he was becoming.

“What’s so funny?” Wella asked him.

“Nothing” he shook it off.

Drinks and “munchies” were immediately supplied for them without asking. Either Tippy had made good guesses or these people were damn good. Wella and Blake began chirping and chatting and Ian enjoyed himself taking in the action of the room.

There was a middle-aged couple chatting with a young muscle guy against the wall closest to him; he assumed they were trying to talk him into a three way. To the other side, he spotted a guy from one of the soaps on his own network making time with a redhead with breasts so large there was no way possible they were natural. The redhead looked pretty bored and seemed to be more interested in her own reflection in the mirror across the room.

The place was packed, but not so crowded that you couldn’t enjoy yourself. It was early, but Blake had informed him that they kept a count to keep the room to a minimum. At the peak hours of the night, even the people on the list couldn’t get in until someone left.

Ian hadn’t realized how quickly he had knocked back his scotch, his sipping alcohol. He tried to get the attention of a waiter, but finally gave up and decided just to go to the bar and get one. He asked his cohorts if they needed another. They said they were fine but he would get them another any way, just so he didn’t feel like a lush.

He stood up and was hit with the dilemma of which