Sunday, July 09, 2006

Remaining Independent (even today)

Although last weekend was a "holiday" weekend for most since the 4th fell on a Tuesday and most people seemed to have the liberty to make it a LONG weekend (starting sometime on Friday—or even Thursday night—and extending through Wednesday morning), I had to work on Monday and we didn't take part in any of the usual debaucherous events that take place at clubs that use any excuse to throw an extra-special wild one. So that meant: no crazy gayness Pride weekend, followed by no craziness holiday weekend.

Well, we made up for it Tuesday, the big celebration of independence itself. P and I were invited to board Bob's boat—a man we met at a party for our pride issue the Wednesday before. He's from Seattle and has this big hundred-foot sailboat that's docked at 79th Street on the UWS. He'd planned to have a group of guys all get on and go out to the end of the island and watch the fireworks. Sounded like fun and something that I'd never done before.

So 30 of us got on the big, fancy boat which was catered and had a cutie guy from the crew acting as bartender. And I proceeded to get trashed. I didn't intend it: but the vodka tonics were served in those big 16 oz. cups and, well, I somehow had three of them. With no dinner. I remember us motoring down to the Statue of Liberty and watching the NJ fireworks and then the Macy's barges with their fireworks and then...I kind of blanked out...until I was leaning over the edge of the boat making a spectacle of the little food that I'd managed to eat between drinks.

The rest of the evening was a blur (and parts of it were only pieced together afterward when I received incriminating photos from a guy that I only partially recalled having met sometime early on in the evening). And of course, I had to get up and make it to work the next day bright and early. Fun, fun. Well it was as long as we were on the boat.

So it's only been a few days since that night of lights but last night P and I decided it was time to try some other new places. We met up with Walter and hoofed it over to Mr. Black. for their "Boys Gone Wild Party" that we've been meaning to hit but never make it out to. Christopher (aka Edie) and Jamie—who we'd met on the boat—met us out as well: all of us looking for the underground, downtown trashy sleaze we'd heard about. Maybe it was too early, but it was all a bit to clean and tame for our taste. So Walter, P and I took our hand stamp and walked over to Eastern Bloc to check out the much trashier go-gos and regular clientele. Saw a guy do a raunchy rock routine with two naked men and then we were ready to head out.

Somehow Walter and his friend Glen convinced us to go with them to Williamsburg. I guess we must have been on the prowl for something interesting if we were so easily kidnapped to Brooklyn at 2 in the morning. So we found ourselves at Fun: a bar that we were told was at least "kinda fun" since half the people would be high on coke. Wow: now we'd found that old school sleaze. The bar has pressed board walls and an unfinished ceiling. It must have been a wrestling them night because there was a boy dancing on the bar wearing a blue singlet and wearing head gear. Two projectors showed boys in some sort of erotic S&M wrestling match on two of the walls and, to top it all off, WWF magazines and other memorabilia were tossed here and there. OK, this seemed like it would be at least kinda fun.

Turned out we were there until we were kicked out at 4 a.m. And we'd had SO much fun while we were there, we got off the L train back in Manhattan and try our luck at the late-night Mr. Black. Well, it still didn't measure up: mostly young guys with their girlfriends, half-dressed and sweaty. Not enough to keep us for long. We finally made it home by 6 this morning. It'll probably be sometime before we repeat that craziness again. But, hey, at least we finally celebrated a little indie queerness in style...


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