The cab pulled up outside CIRCUIT, and TY HUDSON and myself climbed out. There were two lines, each stretching a different direction down the sidewalk. I told Ty to ask someone in one line if it was for people on the list while I asked JON (who I met at the Grabbys during the intermission) if his line was the “list” line. Turned out Ty’s was the right one.

“I’m out of here,” I heard someone say, and turned to see JACOB SLADER next to us. “Have you already been inside?” I asked. “Yeah, and I’m leaving,” he replied. “It’s too crowded, too smokey, too loud…and I’ve been up since 3am. I’m going back to the hotel. Besides, my name wasn’t on the list. I had to show them my Grabby award to prove who I was.” Thanks, Maleflixxx.

Ty and I got paper strips taped around our wrists, and we entered the dark, smokey bar. We were greeted by a super-nice drag queen who was impressed by us being VIPS. Bidding her farewell, we entered the throng.

The first thing I noticed was DAMON PHOENIX dancing on a platform while CHI CHI LARUE was DJing. The music was LOUD and pumping hard. We made our way over to the bar and saw DILLON PRESS standing there. Ty went to talk to Dillon while BRET WOLFE grabbed me for a chat, ordering me a drink of amaretto and coke. Of course, to be heard, we had to scream into each other’s ears.

Bret wanted to do a scene for me. We talked about that, as well as CHAD HUNT. At the Grabby’s, Chad and Chi Chi joked around onstage about how their asses were flat and unattractive. I told Bret that Chad had a great ass, and I wanted to see him bottom someday. Bret got excited: “Oh, it’d be the perfect irony! I should top Chad Hunt! I’ve never topped oncamera before, and he’s never bottomed! It’d be perfect!” I laughed and told him if he could talk Chad into doing it, okay. “But I thought you’d retired,” I shouted. He slammed his fist down onto the bar. “That’s a rumor started by JASON SECHREST,” he screamed. “I never said I was retiring. Yes, my mainstream career is doing well, but I’m still available for movies!” Point taken. Bret’s boyfriend came over and I was introduced. A very nice, hot man.

Bret and I also talked about NICK CAPRA, and the dvd of NICK CAPRA DIRTY TALK. Too bad Nick wasn’t there, he would have liked it. Then Bret excused himself to run to the bathroom, and I saddled up to Dillon Press. TONY MICELLI was dancing now, and we marveled at how amazingly beautiful he was.

I saw “JASON WOOD” dancing in the crowd nearby, and asked Dillon why he was sitting at the Raging Stallion table. Dillon said Jason had told him he’d been invited by TONY SERRANO and that was the only reason. I told him that Jason said he was interested in doing videos, but promised me that I’d be the first to shoot him if he decided to go through with it. Dillon said he thought he’d be good.

I looked over at Ty, who was kissing Stranger #4. Ty is a damn sex pig, and I love that he lets himself just cut loose and have a great time. Bret Wolfe came running back up to me. “Chad said he’d do it!” he yelled. I laughed. “Really?” Bret nodded and took his seat back at the bar again.

I decided to check out the other side of the bar, so I started making my way through the crowd. The music was jamming (thanks, Cheesh), and I heard someone say, “Look who’s here!” It was Jason Sechrest in his white coat and hat. “I want to read your review of BONESAW,” I yelled at him. He nodded, all smiles, and continued on his way. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder. It was CHAD HUNT.

“I hear you’ve been putting ideas in Bret Wolfe’s head!” he yelled. I told him that he needed to get over his ass issues. “You have a great ass!” I told him, “And I hate hearing you talk so badly about it!” Chad leaned in again, “I hate it!” “I know you do, but it’s still very nice! Besides, Bret told me you’ve already agreed to do it!” Chad looked surprised and said, “Bret Wolfe’s a fucking liar!” then laughed.

At the other side of the bar, I could see BRAD BENTON talking to someone. I came up behind him and grabbed him around the chest. “What’s my name?” I yelled into his ear. He looked back at me and said, “Jett Blakk!” “So why can you remember it now, but not on stage?” I replied, laughing. Brad had also won Performer of the Year and thanked practically every director except me.

“I said your name the second time!” he said. “No you didn’t!” I protested. “Yes, I did!” he said. “I mentioned Chi Chi, then you, then—“ “You never said my name,” I laughed. Brad offered to make up for it by buying me a drink. I agreed. “But no Free Drink cards!” I yelled. “Pay for it!”

Finally, the smoke and sweaty crowds were getting to me, too, and I decided to go. The music was so loud, it was making my pant legs vibrate against my skin.

I said goodbye to Ty (who was sucking the left nipple of Stranger #12), Dillon and Bret and went outside into the relative peace of the night. A cab took me back to the hotel, where I undressed, showered and climbed into bed next to CVK, who never once woke up. I looked at the Grabby award on my nightstand, then turned out the light.

To be continued…

JBK