Where Did Everybody Go?

I boarded the L train yesterday morning with no trouble; at 8 o'clock in the morning. Without having to push myself into the mob inside the subway car or wait for the next (or the next-after-next) to arrive, I walked right on to it.

The gym has been quiet too. Relatively. Yesterday there were only two people per lane in the basement pool at Equinox on Greenwich. Ah the luxury of it!

But I'm suspicious. The men at Equinox are getting fatter and hairier. Or the handsome, fit men have migrated to the next happening gym. It happens. Gay men who work out slavishly move from gym to gym every year or so like birds in search of the ideal nest. David Barton has a live DJ during prime time, so they may have set down their wieghts and relocated there...for now.

I've never been clued into the next thing. I always seem to pick up on a trend a little late, just as the bleeding edge has already found the next "it." Or maybe the A gays have gone off to Fire Island for the summer, having spent the Fall and Winter sculpting the perfect pecs for shirtless dancing in the Pines.

All of this relative emptiness has me feeling left out. I have no plans for the summer. No vacation to look forward to; no summer share.

I should appreciate the extra room in the pool, on the sidewalks, and the occasional seat on the subway.

In a city that suddenly feels deserted when it is still quite crowded, not participating in the summer rituals of sun and fun can leave you wandering around like a wallflower waiting for a dance.