I am very glad the neighbors downstairs could not make it to the diversity dance tonight (the 16th - it's 2 am), because it was neither a dance nor was it diverse. It could have more appropriately been called the Post-Menopausal Lesbian Gab. The music was muted and all ten or so participants were seated and kibitzing when I arrived. The music was eventually shut off. Sigh. I love lesbians, that's not the point. The point is that it was supposed to be a diversity occasion. They told me that attendance has been falling since they lost their DJ. They were brainstorming for ideas to boost attendance, everything from pot lucks to silent auctions to some kind of variety show. They considered emailing every lesbian they know. This raised my eyebrows, but I said nothing. More ideas were tossed around. One, and I forget which, prompted a member to say, "Yeah but that attracts the men, and we don't want the men." Someone else said, "We don't?" and I was thinking the same question, but the conversation swept on before this could be elaborated on. I asked the person next to me, "But I thought this is supposed to be a diversity function."
     "Oh yes, of course."
     "My neighbors I wanted to bring, they are guys, a gay couple. Most of my friends are men."
     "That's good, the more the merrier." I don't think they really agree on who should be coming to these things, but it looks like it doesn't matter because virtually nobody is. I don't feel especially inclined to come.
     So I wondered what to do with myself and wandered into Red Bank. At 11 or so at night, parking is ample, and I stuck the van on Monmouth Avenue and started walking.
     I am wearing my phat pants and the TV T-shirt that says "set me free" on it, and I naturally walk looser in this outfit. It's an attitude thing, I think, inconsequential, but I was grateful for it earlier tonight. As I was crossing at a corner, four young black guys approached me from the diagonal corner, and I didn't think anything of it until one of the guys said hi to me. I waved in a small way and kept on going. Somebody said something I couldn't make out, and it bothered me, but I kept on walking my loose limbed boyish walk and let them go their merry way. I had been nervous. My prejudices are still with me, and I am arguing with myself whether it is justified or not, in this instance. These were not well dressed brothers out for the night, these were guys in wife beaters and bandanas. And I was thinking as I walked away that I can take one, but I can't take four.
     I went to the diner and got a seat. There was no appetite in me, but really I didn't know what to do, so I ordered a coffee and some melon. The coffee tasted like cheap decaf, utterly undrinkable. The melon was good though. Mostly I was bored, and disappointed about the dance, and already prepared to be mingling with the public. Maybe this is lonely.
     After that I roamed around more, on Broad Street where there was more going on. Boredly I strode down the street in that mile-eating gait, and scoped out the blues club where I have heard they have house music on Thursdays. Then, turning the corner, I noticed in an alcove the sign "Internet Cafe." Aha! HERE it is! I had nearly lost my mind one day trying to find this place, and no wonder, stuck away like this.
     I was reading the hours on the door, and noticed that it was supposed to be open just then, even though it was all dark inside. I opened the door on a hushed crowd, and a skinny blonde chick told me that if I wanted to stay for the show, it would be necessary to enter the other way, and she told me how to find the other way.
     At the door, I was relieved of $7.50 and took a seat in the audience. All the tables that seemed to belong to the middle of the floor had been pushed aside, and although a couple users were at the computers aligned along the back wall, the crowd was seated in rowed chairs facing a tiny stage against a wall with an island scape mural. Six people were doing improv comedy.
     They were relatively funny. They were much more funny than clever. I wouldn't say they were $7.50 worth of funny, but still it was nice to join something I hadn't had the fuzziest idea about, and most of the crowd resembled my demographic. Well, maybe they were a bit younger than me.
     The improv group is going to hold tryouts later this month. If I knew I were staying in this area, it might be something to consider. But I don't so it isn't.
     I got back to the van without mishap, and here I am.