"So more people are coming to your blog, eh?"

"For a while. When someone writes something about it on another blog, I get a bump, but then it dies down."

"Well, don't take it hard." He was happy at that. "Maybe it's those photos of you from the seventies. You look gay."

"I guess so. It seemed to work out, though."

"What? I didn't know that."

The Delmonico was a big disco on Duval. It was a gay bar, but everyone went there to dance. It was upscale and had the best sound system on the island at that time. I didn't dance, but my friends liked to get coked up and go, so I was left by myself to stand and gawk at the strange fun all about me. There were always beautiful women there and one night the most beautiful of all approached me and said hello. I could hardly breathe. In short order, she introduced me to some her friends, Steve, Paul, and Panno. Suddenly she said, "Listen, I have to go check on my friends, OK. I'll be right back." And with that, she was gone. Steve and Paul were obviously a couple and drifted off into their own conversation. I was left with Panno. "Damn," I thought, "that was slick." Panno and I chatted for a while. He was a good guy, so I thought I'd settle things with him.

"I've got to tell you something," I said. "I'm not gay. I'll hang out and drink and chat, but if you are. . . well, I'm not gay."

And with that, Panno and I became friends. He was a bartender at two different places, and I did a good amount of drinking for free. Panno was a good guy.

It was OK to be gay in Key West then, but there were a lot of places in America where you wouldn't want to be back then. Most, I think.