Just when i think i´m staying put, minding my own business, i hear I have to travel again! Nothing so dramatic, I´m only going to Rio, I could do a lot worse... even so, after traveling about so much, I feel like hanging around, enjoy the summer "who" is finally showing "his" face around here on the south part of the world. This is the best time of the year around here, in my opinion: the almost summer! It is like a Friday, the best day of the weekend because it means you have the whole weekend ahead of you. Since I´m only going there for a couple of meetings with some editors, it won´t be so busy and I´ll be able to meet some friends, go out for a beer at Jobi (the best bar in Rio)go to Posto 9 in Ipanema beach and Cafeína, just across - the hottest gay spots - Bar D´hotel, Zero Zero, Devassa, Lord Jim... so many nice things to do in Rio... in cluding catching up with my favorite "Barbie" ever, Leandro Lebre, great friend for better or for worse! I called him to let him know and he got all excited, but remembered he would be out of town for almost the whole week and we would only be able to spend time together on the weekend, when he came back from London.  I wanted to spend the whole weekend glued to him, but what´s a modern girl to do when her best - and gay - friend can´t? We´ll glue for the weekend. Meanwhile, he gave me an excellent idea: take his place at Flamengo´s pool every day. Fantastic pool, with fantastic swimmers... I can refresh my mind and enjoy, meet nice people at the same time. Lê is never ever ever wrong: the pool is everything he told me it would be. Maybe even more. Not to mention the "trouble" of bumping into some of the best swimmers in Brazil as I came in and out the lock rooms. He forgot to tell me that - or maybe he did it on purpose, as a surprise, a "you´re my best friend and I love you" bonus! I was just thinking this on my way to the pool when I bump into the most athletic of them all, 6 foot tall, back as wide as the Corcovado, eyes of a deeper blue than the Ipanema sea (Jobin´s time, of course), all wet, in the opposite direction: from the pool to the lock rooms - MEN lock room! I was already sitting by the pool, about to go in, but a thought kept coming back to me: I would be a much happier woman than I am today if I could - even if it were for just a moment - take a glimpse at the "little boys" lock room. Any Mail lock room, at a football stadium, a basketball court, even the chess club, the important thing was picking at a MEN´s room. The mere idea of seeing so many of them together, showering, naked, the smell of testosterone... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Back to reality, Steph! Well, it is the middle of the afternoon, not many people around, if I don´t go now, I´ll never go. That´s right, I´m going into the men´s lock room and I´m going now! I look around, pretend to have forgotten something in the girl´s lock room and go back. The doors to both lock rooms are very close, it won´t be that hard. I just have to play dumb for a moment and soon I can go in without no one noticing me... I´m here, this is the best day of my life, if I die now I don´t care... what? Only two of them? Bullocks! I can´t believe it! Well, come to think of it, they are the most perfect examples of their specimens I´ve ever seen. It would be possible to repopulate the Earth cloning both, creating a Huxlerian society - men genetically programmed to be flawless. I just stood there, awfully quiet, behind one door, trying to process the image of two gods - one Greek, the other, Celtic - showering one across from the other. And just when I thought my eyes could melt from that much beauty, what do I get: one of them open his eyes and, while still at the shower, passing the soap around his carefully sculpt torso - this is a crucial moment on a writers career, a doubt worth of Othelo´s: to say or not to say I wish I was the soap, that´s the question! Anyhow, he stared at the other one´s body nonstop. It was a magnificent body, I was not surprised anyone would like to look, but from all I know about men´s nature - which is not little, at all - this kind of look is not a part of it. Never mind. It started getting even more interesting: the other opens his eyes too, noticing he was being watched. At first he gets a little embarrassed, turns around, try not to encourage it. But after a while he turns back and reciprocate the stare. Neither of them says one single word. This is the absolute most glorious moment of my life - I could actually die and I wouldn´t mind, I swear! They are stil quiet and so they remain during the whole thing. Turning point: the first one to stare (I´ll call him A) turns off the shower, without taking his eyes off the other (B, for my algebra analogy) and walks slowly towards him. "B" does not move at all, keeps showering, staring at "A". "C", the observe/narrator - my fabulous self - static, not moving one single muscle, on the verge of an atomic explosion. "A" stops right in fron t of "B", who turns off the shower and just stands there as if knowing what was about to happen. "A" gets down on his knees, blocking "C´s" vision from that hallucinating priapus, but giving another heavenly view: he starts moving his head back and forwards, leaving no options of current activities. Another cruel doubt: stand still, remain as the observer and let nature follow its course or interfere? Opportunity came, I wouldn´t let it go to waste. I let the bathing suit run down my body and walked slowly towards them. One more amazing surprise - so many that day - they were not surprised or shocked to see me go into action, they new I was there the whole time. "B" moves his hand, inviting me to engage in the festivities. It had to be a dream! I had to bite, slap, kiss, lick, blow, over and over again, just to make sure it wasn´t - naughty me! And we just stayed there playing with each other´s bodies until it was almost six, rush hour, not so much because we were afraid of getting caught by other swimmers, but mostly because one of them could bring along a security guard... I went back to Le´s house (he left me the keys to his gorgeous Leblon´s penthouse), took a shower and then just spent the whole night sitting at a chaise long, a glass of Champagne on my right had, without being able to move, not even for a sip. Didn´t even sleep that night. Felt like I had died and gone to heaven. Over and over again. The next day, I had to go back home. there were still some meeting I had to attend, some days before I could go home, but I decided to do it anyway. Nothing left to happen in Rio...