Thump, thump, thump, thump...I opened my eyes and it was still dark, about 5 AM. Helicopters and not from the beach manning some unfortunate Hatians trying to get to shore; these were directly overhead. I grabbed a cloak, checked under to covers to make sure there wasn't a poolboy there, and went outside where I found way to many search lights, police dogs, and running cops to do anything but look through the gate. The next best thing: run in and put on gay TV station WSVN because they report everthing with a hesterical touch to it.

Two men had been shot dead outside David's Cafe II off Lincon Rd. and all the witnesses being held had seen nothing at all. Even more odd was WSVN's saying they didn't know if these people were from town or not. Firstly, this is hip-hop weekend, over six hundred people have been arrested, and this should not have been a surprise. Secondly, anyone who lives here knows you are more likely to succeed at crime on the lawn of police headquarters at 11th and Washington; there's usually one sleepy, old cop behind the bullet-proof glass. David's is a sort of Cuban donut house and there are more cops sipping coffee than you will find anywhere else; you never do anything around David's.

That done, the weekend seems to be lessening in intensity as more and more went to Cancun and The Dominican Republic. The days were civil and we actually had a fun time in the afternoons playing the latest Beyonce (you can tell Ray worked) and watching Ray's Latin kids dance and sing. I spent this afternoon with more established members of society like Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish, Mark, Edison, and his boyfriend, Nestor. There is always lots to gossip about, especially with a new club, Halo, opening soon (as can only be expected, they are delayed by The City). Oh, and I tried on the Duchess of Alba gown and practiced "sweeping" in a room. Still, I don't know.