March 5. Snow hits Templeton. A nasty storm rushes down from Canada and freezes my small town, icing it over. It doesn’t matter, though. Things are hot at the club. Steamy. Sexy. Warm. If you want a strong drink, some flavor in your life as a woman or gay man, stop by the place and enjoy the heat. The dancers are smoking. The temperature is rising. Our evenings are on fire. I promise you’ll have a good time.
Phillip Fae resigns from his position at the club. Too bad, I’ll miss him.
It’s a sad story what’s happening in his life. He says he wants to go for a walk with me in Bradbury Park.
I tell him, “It’s three degrees out there. We should stay inside.”
“I don’t want you to see me cry. The cold will keep my tears frozen.”
Jesus, I think. This must be really bad. “Let’s go.”
The park i
