7-1-00 Sa 5:50 PM

I'm at the bar in Barney's Beanery. I rode my bike here from Hudson. I'm sweaty. I rode past the GIP's house. He'd going to meet me here after he shaves and showers. I rode past Kendoll's house. It didn't look like she was home. Then I rode up Burnside in case Estafania's mom was out on the sidewalk in front of their house. She wasn't. It took about forty-five minutes to ride here. The barmaid is cute, Asian, and friendly. I ordered a Bud Lite. When I was waiting on the corner of La Cienega and Santa Monica for the light to turn, I felt like people driving by in their cars must have been thinking I was gay. This is one of those places with license plates and street signs nailed up all over the place. This barmaid has a luscious pair of grapefruit-sized tits. Am I conditioned to think like that? Will it change when my daughter is born. I guess it will have to. I don't dare commit to paper many of the things I think about. The muscle between my neck and shoulder is sore. Sweet tight pussy. [blue ink line drawing of a horned, hang-tongued demon head] Hell hath no fury like the lawyer of a woman scorned. My reality check bounced. I would give my right arm to be ambidextrous. I'm afraid my pretty little barmaid is about to go and be replaced by the shrew who just came in. Some other poor bastard got shot down asking her for a date. "I'll take a rain check," she said. I need acupuncture. Some guy named John "The Beast" Brown is fighting some other guy on the TV. The Beast is doing a lot of clinching. I wonder what channel the Angels are on? Is that a question or a statement? I forgot my book. Fuck, what else? The new barmaid calls herself Sage. She brought in a bunch of sage sprigs. The Beast is fighting a guy who calls himself the Spartan. Every guy in the bar is hitting on the cute, friendly, Asian  barmaid.