Sending Out an S.O.S....

...or a C.Q.D.; whatever works. Once again I'm being kidnapped and forced to go to "Cha-Cha-Land"; Latinos are not supposed to want their boyfriends to even look into a Latino party palace. But Leopoldo and his co-worker, cohort, and co-conspirator are bringing me screaming and kicking to Planeta Macho tonight. (Fortunately, it is two blocks away and not two hours away; I could conceivably light my clothes on fire and still make it home before the flames burned down to my petticoats.) If you send a helicopter out over club Score, that will be my signal on the roof, spelled in sea shells, "S.O.S." The things you do for love...