There were hos aplenty Sunday as we patrolled some kind of snow- and skateboard expo at the Long Beach Convention Center; there were hundreds of cute boys and the girls who love them, wearing teeny-weeny baby Ts that said "Lush." We walked around and around, and not one boy talked to me. One guy did smile at me, and I managed to smile back, but then I cast my eyes down quickly because in my old age, I've lost the ability to brazenly leer at men. By the time I decided he was indeed very attractive, he was gone. And a little piece of me was gone with him. Sniff.
The booths were neat, the bands were fun, there was lots of schwag and a skateboard obstacle course thingamajig, and Seth Wilder and our Santa Ana breakdancing friends were popping and locking, blah, blah, blah. None of that mattered. What was important was that there were hundreds of cute boys and the girls who love them. And you know what? We saw no hooking-up occurring! Isn't that a shame? We're all always talking about how hard it is to meet people, and here are hundreds who share the same interest, and damn if every one of them isn't attractive. You all ought to have seized the day. Forsooth.