When the song ends, I go back to the table and sit down. Another gin and tonic awaits – my fourth… fifth? After more small talk, that glass, too, ...s empty. The boy – one of the dancers – sitting next to me puts his hand on my thigh. I take his hand to move it away, but he resists, and for some reason I don’t fight it. He leans in and whispers, “C’mon, I want to show you something.” I know I should say no, but I am curiously aroused by, and trusting of, this handsome young man. He takes my hand. Stupid yuppie scum, God's gift to me, not only do they make theperfect marks they make it easy. Anybody that hangs out in a coffee shopis a retarded monkey. Most of the time even then I use an SSH encryptedchain of anonymous foreign proxies, after all they can track yourapproximate location by your IP address. There's a lot of informationyou put out there about you and your computer that you're not even awareof. And Webmaster's should check their logs because if you catch me on abad day my. More

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