HE put his cellphone back under the elastic strap of his leotard, hoping it would vibrate at the right moment rather than play the Star Wars theme it seemed to choose randomly when it needed attention. It made a nice bulge, with his big ski sweater pulled down to disguise the squarish shape. Next yearm he promised himself, he would get an i-Phuqye. MEanwhile, his eyes lit up as he made his way out of the restroom and intot he smokey corners at the back of the Horseshoe Fork Bar. The place was crawling with night life, some of it literally in the last stages of inebriation. There were gay men, bored lesbians, self-pitying transvestites, and a couple of transgenders who were arguing about when who had the right to do what and with which and to whom on a first date. He straightened up and flexed his leotard. Jake was on the prowl.