I live about four houses down from Roscoe's with three other roommates. Our house borders on the alley, and there's always something that happens there around the closing hours--we'll always get some hoots and hollers. I haven't really heard people having sex in the alley, but we'll hear our neighbor yelling at people--she's always trying to get some sleep. Every night I go to bed with a little Madonna, a little Whitney, whoever the flavor of that particular night is. I'll tuck myself right into bed and kinda hear that constant beat--a thump, thump, the heart of gayville pumping its blood through all of us. Usually I start to feel like I'm missing something. It's always a little tempting. The beauty of my room is that it has its own exit, a staircase to the back alley, and I can always sneak out and no one knows. There have been many occasions where I have responded to the call of the disco beat and have gotten up and gotten dressed--my standard outfit is anything somewhat tight. My roommates mock me for having a hard time staying home. There'll be nights when I'll come home and I'll say, "I'm not moving from this house!" and the next thing you know I'll be here.
--Erik Heinzen, computer consultant