All he could do is assume he was near Birmingham, Al where he had been going to the airport. If he was right he should get to Atlanta, Georgia soon by walking almost due east by a little north. Roger laughed to himself and thought, 'of course that is assuming Atlanta is still there and I bet it isn't. Birmingham sure as shit isn't where it should be.'Roger hoped he would find a road or town well before he walked the nearly 150 miles to Atlanta but he planned on going all the way if he had to. Every time he thought about walking to Atlanta Roger snorted. Truthfully, in his mind he was sure Atlanta did not exist. After all he had been walking for hours and never saw one sign of human habitation or civilization. In all the days he was here he had not seen or heard ONE airplane. There were no contrails in the sky, no sounds of civilization as he knew it either. The air he was breathing was even strangely clearer, more pure. No, Roger was almost positive he was somewhere or somewhen. And Madeleine too," I said loyally."Madeleine?" Our agent?" Oh, Maddy. She's your archetypal fag hag, ain't she? Absolutely adorable!"Steadily more people began arriving and everything changed as they did so. Initially it seemed most likely that all there'd be was a polite evening of passing joints round the room supplemented by glasses of rather better plonk than we deserved and the background music of Cabaret Voltaire. However, as more people arrived—most of them men and not all of them exclusively homosexual—the mood began to change. And when some kids arrived who were younger than any of us, including Andrea, I began wondering about the safety of Kai's abstract expressionist paintings and the massive stereo speakers that were by no means yet cranked up to full capacity.But that cautious attitude amongst other things also changes. This was going to be an evening that could be celebrated by Ian Dury's famous song after all.First of all there was the Sex.This was one of the few.
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