“I’m just a bachelor/Looking for a partner/Someone who knows how to ride/Without even falling off.” Last summer, while walking past the Cha Cha Lounge and all the way to the Paramount, I followed a man who had Ginuwine’s 1996 hit “Pony” playing from a red boom box. Dude gave the nod to every woman in his path, including me when I overtook him, and rewound the tape at least twice. I thought, how brave to be so up-front about your horniness. Ditto for the bar Pony, which has taken over the Cha Cha’s space until a condo eradicates the block this November. The Cha was both seedy and kitschy, but Pony proprietor Marcus Wilson (aka Ursula Android) has played up the former qualifier with inky walls and life-size porn wallpaper; a vestige of cheerfulness remains in the friendly pistol of a naked cowboy plastered on the wall facing the door. The red tape there that used to read IF YOU ARE RACIST, SEXIST, HOMOPHOBIC, OR AN ASSHOLE, DO NOT COME IN has been peeled away to make IF YOU ARE HOMO, COME IN. So, the man with the boom box is S.O.L. The rest of us can toast the frantic, final glory days (and glory hole) of this subversive spot with some dirt-cheap beers and gloriously gay soundtracks (karaoke pumped in from next door, the Smiths, etc.). The saddle’s waiting—come and jump on it. 1013 E. Pike St., 322-0703.