A near meltdown occurred this week with a Herculean effort being made to open the new back bar and Boris resigning and drifting off. When told this morning that the entire staff was drunk by closing, I could only reply, "What else do you expect from the stress they are under? I'm surprised no one has killed someone else." Everyone has been working 14 hour days and the fighting and screaming is more than anyone should put up with. Still, chaos often brings opportunity and my grandmother--always full of snarky quips--once said, "In a time of confusion, he who knows what he wants can get it".

As nice as the Balkan staff is, Boris had allowed The Palace to drift away from it's gay roots and I seized upon the week's drama to conduct a raiding party under plan for some time.


First, I stole Gere from Seventh. I knew he could handle it, although the poor thing was put to work on Ditmar's new bisexual night, Sexy People, Open Your Minds. (Bisexuals are a nutty and fun bunch, although we weren't prepared for the wild atmosphere that developes when there really IS something for everyone.)

Then I lifted James from Score in an daring move to actually have a blonde, gay, American boy working for us without a vowel at the end of his name or an accent like Count Dracula.

Our other blonde and beloved Jeremy returns tomorrow and perhaps he can crack the whip again and maintain some order around here. His welcome home party on Tuesday night should put to rest all those pretenders to his long vacant position, and I certainly will feel more secure when--as Riley always likes to point out--I "wield power" with my captain beside me.