CHRIS: God, I am so tired.

ADAM: Yeah.

[pause]

CHRIS: Really tired. Can't wait to get home.

ADAM: Yeah. Do you want me to drive?

CHRIS: No, I'm good. Besides, I didn't have that last shot like you did.

ADAM: Oh, and I should tell him I don’t want a free drink? That’s rude. And it’s not my fault he didn’t know about my delicate condition.

CHRIS: Everyone knows about your delicate condition. I think on the bathroom wall you're still referred to as "two drink minimum".

ADAM: Funny.

[pause]

CHRIS: So, did you have a good time?

ADAM: Oh, yeah. You?

CHRIS: Oh, yeah, sure. I mean, I always have a good time.

ADAM: The music was pretty good.

CHRIS: Yeah. Except they always play the wrong version of the songs. Like you know that "If you could read my mind" song?

ADAM: Yeah, I liked that.

CHRIS: Well, yeah, but there is a much better version on the single, that goes on even longer, and has all the words and stuff.

ADAM: Oh, sure. I mean I liked what they played, but more words would be better.

CHRIS: Well, clearly. What do DJ's have against words anyway?

ADAM: No doubt. [pause] Words are cool.

CHRIS: Yeah.

[pause]

ADAM: So, did you see David tonight?

CHRIS: Who didn't? He was dancing on the ledge with his shirt off.

ADAM: What a slut.

CHRIS: Yeah.

[pause]

ADAM: Do you think he still wants me?

CHRIS: I don't think so, I know so.

ADAM: How can you be sure?

CHRIS: Well, he never took his eyes off you whenever you were dancing, and once, when he was dancing with his arms above his head, I could see that if you connect the dots, his track marks still spell your name.

ADAM (laughing): What a loser. What did I ever see in him?

CHRIS: I was never sure. Other than a fantastic body, reasonable car and a dick of death, there really wasn't much to recommend him.

ADAM: Easy, now.

CHRIS: How long were you together anyway?

ADAM: A long time. [considering] At least 2 months.

CHRIS: Wow. That's over a year in straight terms.

ADAM: How do you figure?

CHRIS: Well, one year to a dog is seven to normal humans, and since men are basically dogs, the conversion is the same.

[both laugh, then pause]

ADAM: So, you had a good time tonight?

CHRIS: Oh, yeah. You looked a little bored, though.

ADAM: Well, a little I guess. I just had one of those moments of a little too much clarity, you know, where I stepped out side myself and took a long look. I saw myself, a reasonably nice professional guy, driving 30 minutes to dance in a converted McDonalds with ex-boyfriends to songs we have better versions of at home, while much younger men ignore me and older men send me watered down drinks—and far too few of those, by the way.

CHRIS: Okay, bitter, party of one, bitter, party of one.

ADAM: No, listen! I like to dance as much as the next guy, but do I really have to sit through three hours of marginal drag to do so? Why do we go there, really?

CHRIS: Where else are we gonna go, Adam? Sports Column? The Union? Dublin Underground? It's Saturday night, we're still reasonably young, and allegedly gay, so it's what we do. It's not perfect, but what is anymore? It's the best we got.

[pause, eyes lock for a moment]

ADAM (backing down) You're right. What was I thinking?

CHRIS: You were thinking too much, that's all. A dangerous habit.

ADAM: I know.

CHRIS (pause) So, did you see what David was wearing?

ADAM: Oh, don't get me started.

[FAST BLACKOUT.]