Eastern Standard
By Richard GreenbergA gay man in Manhattan is asked, "Was it fun living like that? Sleeping with the free world?" by his sister, Phoebe's boyfriend Stephen. At first he says, "Not really," but when asked "Is that the truth?" he says, "No. It's not remotely the truth, it's a great fat lie."
PETER
It was... wonderfully fun, those years... Clicking onto people like magnets - That's how it was, entering a room... Lovers everywhere. People you'd had, people you might soon have. Oh, God, and the way you stared and the way you were stared at. You could fall in love with anything - a jawline, a chin - because it didn't have to last beyond the half-hour. And everything was understood; no negotiations that made you lose your apetite for the prize. You'd see someone, you'd find him early; and you didn't think - is he going to like me, is he smart, will we have anything to talk about? No, you thought: there's my evening. And the glitter in his eyes, taking you in as if you were a newly discovered continent. And it might last an hour, or sometimes a day, or some amazing times a month, but it never got stale, because the minute you felt yourself start to become boring, you'd just click away - scarcely even saying goodbye. And never - never - any regret, because there was always someone else who'd fall in love with you a few minutes away.
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