LOVE Is ths DRUG

So you've decided suicide is a much too permanent solution, what do you do, then? Why, the next best thing of course...you go out and. try' to get laid in Detroit!

The first time I tried I mean really and truly tired was back in high school. Football season had just ended and all the bouncy little cheerleaders were no longer cheering for my amorous. ^^®yMf?^®cause with basl^^H^^^on starting, the basketball players had to have their turn. During football season I was fortunate to be without want not because I was cool or good-looking but because unlike several mates, who games singlehandedly. I was the only one lucky enough to actually lose a game singlehandedly. Looking back, this achievement probably had the analogous appeal of James Dean's Rebel — well, I wasn't exactly a rebel but I was certainly a center without a cause. But now that the girls' attention had shifted from hikes to hoops, I found myself lonely and bored STIFF, so to speak. My friends and I piled into someone's father's car 4nd tooled dpwn Woodward Avenue in search of relief. Shouting, "We want women, WE WANT WOMEN!", we scrambled out of the car with such tremendous bulges in our pants that the pimp who was to rob us in front of the adult movie theatre probably anticipated a very profitable haul. Unfortunately for everyone concerned, the pimp got $9.00 and one badly crumpled condom (between the five Of us) and we kept possession of the bulges. The days of high school frustration passed as quickly as pimples, and I looked forward to the non-vicarious rewards of age.

WANT TO SCORE? EXTRA

SHOWSYOUHOW IN NINE EASY STEPS

The Approach: The approach is critical because this will initate the first contact with the young lady you desire and possibly establish the tone of the entire evening, so be cool, remember, first impressions are important.

Step 1: Offer her a drink, look into her eyes and say "Would you like a drink?" if she refuses, look at her knees and ask them, "Would you like a drink?"

* Quotes used from "Love is the Drug", ©TRO—Cheshire BMl

Things are different now. You can take it easy, take it sleazy, or take it any way you can get it. Yep, not only can you get laid in Detroit but you

"I haven't had any action in a while. I hope things change here. I've heard that Detroit is a butch town. " — Bette Midler, up0nmhff&f^§0j)etroit.

Well, that's what folks from other burgs think of us, and on the surface, you have to agree. Elbow your way past a row of leather boys in a Dee-troit bar, ladies, and you'll feel like you've lost something to the fellow in the brown cords. As for a woman looking for action, well it really isn't necessary unless you have a case of terminal cooties. Oh, women

havep|||ways boa^^^^>out. cru||gK3 for young bo|lj|sh, but if s all fluff and nonsljjb. B|pi are still dark, snr|j|y cf||rns of maleness wf||§ of Brut and Budwjljpr flo^»g through the air^pntroddfl|£dainty trilf^^Pantilly an'd;;vh^^%^^^^turn. What a*ejPl|l||H^g in that bar, woman?j|j

Ah, but things are changing. I hadn'pifealized what was going on i|f|pj|§singles bars, becausejlrequent laidback, homey^ibrs like Pasquale's in Royal Oak where there are no single men, just gays, buddies out for a beer and hulking Archie Bunkers watching the hockey game. A waitress once told me that a lesbian couple had recently been thrown out for making out over their spaghetti specials. "This is a family place, they can't get away with that!" Would they kick out a heterosexual couple doing the same?

"Only if they disappeared under the table."

So much for gay lib in Royal Oak. But that was before I braved the singles bars (for the sake of research, y'know). No sooner had I got my jeans past the bouncer (after a lengthy conversation about my age) than I saw what these Detroit hussies will do in the presence of foxbait. Three of them were buzzing around one roundcheeked young innocent, simpering and giggling for his benefit. It was disgusting. But there were about twenty lone wolves to this one king bee without so much as a barmaid within grabbing distance. Trouble was* they looked desperate. Women shy away from desperatelooking men, and with good reason. Why are they descan try in three different types of places.

If you decide to take it easy, you've got your choice of poon parlors like the Wagon Wheel, Charlie's Pub, or the Delta Lady. Put on some corduroys, a flannel shirt, hiking boots and as they say, "kick-back and truck op in." Places like these are relatively inexpensive, which is good because you're gonna spend the whole night shoveling drinks down every target you find. But that's really OK, 'cause once they pass out (and if you can smuggle your sauced snuggle past the bouncers), you've got a free ride to honey-pot heaven righjt in the back seat of your car. (Assuming, of course; that you haven't gotten your own self too drunk to dtink.) These places are "really mellow" I ■ bicausPlSIliy're darMpough that yoil^on't ha||iffto worry about ifllat ar||||bdy looks like. Tt|e bellls are loud enough Mb yc»Mon^t have to talk mjljp either* except during their breaks.* And even thenJpSt a few boasil^gputypursiereo or something, emphasizing how YOURS IS BIGGER. Possibly include a reference to the virtues of ecology and keeping a CLEAN HEAD

and she'll bite the hook.

"Love is the drug and l need to score."

If you want to take it sleazy, which is probably your best bet to pet, then Detroit has plenty of what you need . The Aorta and the Gay Nineties immediately come to mind as the kind of places that offer the finest atmosphere for this brand of serious hard-core muff diving. Make sure you don't shave or wash your hands for at least two days and then swill down a six-pack of the cheapest, raunchiest beer you can find just before you go out, so you'll burp a lot. perate? There has to be a good reason, right?

I don't want to get down on you average joes just looking for some female action, any female action... but after all, it's a seller's market. Why should I rap with the guy in the Arctic parka about his Dolby level or the Columbian he scored last night, when I could gossip about Bianca or Cher, discuss the current state of fashion in New York, or rate London restaurants with my chic gay friend? Why should I Subject myself to a harangue about how well the guy in the patch work leathers does with "chicks," when I could argue Patti Smith with an interesting female friend? The trouble is, men feel a traditional compulsion to score, to, be on the make, to always wonder what they're going to get out of any encounter sexually. And now it's infiltrated into the ranks of my sisters, who, under the banner of women's liberation, are aggressively prowling bars and regaling likely boyflesh with wolfwhistles. It's an intensely dehumanizing experience to be treated like a chocolate cupcake, and the girls snickering with each other over a well-filled pair of levis are as guilty as any. After reading Peggy Caserta's biography of Janis Joplin — one long progression of lurid tales about her proclivity for tender, disposable young Romeos — I began to feel like I do after I've read Screw magazine; like I was in the meat department of the local Chatham, watching the paststfjjpis make it wllkthe snj|j|td ham. Aftenl|he

nfllpity wears l|ln

Jt? A romantic idyll lllh rrflfcav friend, watching lplirflBmovies and drinjlpg Collftesier somehow^pkes me ilifchJTflore .j^^ftially gratifying than a sessfbn with the Wessoi^ttu and an athletic stran®.

As my male counterpart points out "Hey bitch, you bbogie?*' isl)oliat it all

wanna boils down ttjjjj

No, I most definitely do not want to do no boogie, kind sirs.

Some of the approaches men use in bars succeed only

Jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket (BLACK, if you really mean business), are the only acceptable apparel in these places. Stumble around and bump into anything that has a mushy chest. I mean really bump. Preferably you should almost knock 'em down, because that's the only way you'll capture their jaded alcoholic attention. None of that "face to face and toe to toe" horsedung, here. Burp (loud), wipe your mouth with your arm and then scratch your crotch real hard. Grab your intended by the collar, being sure to put pressure on her bazoombas, and then spit out something like, "Howz 'bout you and me ghettin' down?" Or, try a more direct approach: "Hey, bitch, you wanna BOOGIE?" me with such a ridiculous line? The ridiculous is rpmantic, the incongruous sublime. Another guy who succeeded let it be known by my friends that he was madly in love with me. But when we spent an evening lying around on the floor of his apartment playing records he behaved like the perfect Southern gentlemen, never so much as leering in my direction. Driven to distraction, I stayed and stayed, determined not to compromise my womanhood by emerging from this encounter unlunged at. Finally, after I was reduced to a swell of their highwaisted baggies, shuffling on platform boots. Edacious eyeballs penetrate your very soul, and the competition is fiercer here than among weed ' pushers in a high

"Late that night I park my car9 Stake my claim in the singles bar."

Face it, if you're timid about the initial approach then you're gonna end cuffing the cookie by self. But if you requhnH more refinement in) you coozle catching thB>l haps yoiMjijjta^pranyway t it. By this I

mea^Prcit the "discos" (of soj^Mike Coral GablelHhe L^Bfing or The RoostCTtail. TjjBse bars epitomize ' the scene" in Detroit^. It's pi^^c, degrading dc

jation with th^VutdatdH^shing lighMof psych^B^fiagMPout you gotta loveit^^^my because these places offer the greatest assortment of bait for your special pole. Unfortunately the greater number of fish attracts a greater number of fishermen. The walls are not painted or wallpapered but paneled with people...other horny geeks just like you and me, waiting within the elastic

because they're so pathetic. 1 mean, what's it going to hurt if you give a drooling slob with sensitive eyes one dance and then split? But then you discover that he EXPECTS you to accept his

adavance wahat for all are you doing in that bar chick?

have to confess i leatherette over my - that I'm a h in this miliei str in a strang The caches thittfhave worked never happened bar: maybe because th where it's supposed t liappen, the stompi ound of | horny

singles^W^^pi^nost effectively picljp up whereever I least expected it. One former flame used this approach: He sauntered up to me on the street and offered to be my "protector" to wherever I was going (it was late at night). I sized him up, then accepted immediately. What could be more incongruous than this guy who looked like an underfed, boyish A1 Pacino — shy to boot — walking right up to

"Boy meets girt white the beatgoes on."

Face to face, toe to toe, heart to heart as we hit the floor.* AA

school john. If you wanna score this way, count on shelling out a week's worth of your unemployment check on a proper costume. Roland's and Gucci's, silks and suedes are mandatory, being "spaced-out". Your cologne should reek of the nauseous scent of fresh money and your breath should hint at a tequila sunrise. Any line or style of come-on is valid if youG manage to loosen youi_ collar with your tongue duripR delivery. You'll haveFH hard and fast to initiWana love's then

slowRRancBL becopfTne sina qua noMBut alal&Ftortune is a perfieffigps JK;h. The secret to sccAg isfi| remember that youle nWPeter Fonda, wheiKill thBkwhile you're saying thiiRBfrom a PetemFonda moviMyrnkbaej the stuff lifHRP Good luck and happy hunting.

spineless nooelly by his coolnegijhe made his slow and jfdetrciouslv mevjftgble move.6 "wham bamnik yci ma'am" from this soBof

So I admit it. I'm a siJB. Patti i Smith could beat Re with one of her sweat-S(Kd t-shUts. jziQuabild

girlish shBoutto a "sophisticateclR singles bar and all I couHthink about was gettincHiJmeed my kitty an fantasize abcjut my

But that's I've 'had it with the New Androgyny. And I really believe that the hustling scene in bars is just that — it doesn't strike me as even faintly erotic to bpogie down with an accountant from Dearborn in a rhjnestone-studded leisure suit. Love is the drug, all right —

It Isay 'Go'— She says -'Yes'-Dim the lights, you can guess the rest. fti

jus' somethin' to get high on, read books about, collect paraphernalia for. Maybe I'll go to England, track down that, wasted romantic Bryan Ferry ("Both ends burning," huh?) and force my affections on him. Gays — the new super-studs. See you at the drive-in.