if they’re gonna ask me to join in on a 3-some, I’m gonna be so mad! Part 1 of 2

Friday was definitely a recovery night.  After a very short disco nap, I tried to catch this live performance series called Uptown Live in Harlem, but apparently it was cancelled. So on the train ride back home, I contemplated going to No Parking, even if I slept til 1 and caught the last couple of hours, but I decided to get my rest instead. 

 

And it was a good thing, too, because Saturday was the Ivy League Crew‘s beach debut.  I invited Peace Corpse (named for her impressive resume item as well as the gay part of her social life), and she agreed to come!  Now, Peace Corpse is this white guy from the South I met on online who moved to NYC at the end of last summer for grad school.  We grabbed drinks after work, had some awesome convo, went out later that night, and ended up hooking up.  We haven’t hung out since… I don’t know, maybe September, but we got into this pattern of me inviting him out with the Ivy League Crew, and him always having something straight to do (or working on a paper… or just being lame b/c it’s a Tuesday night… who does that!).  Anyway, I was very excited b/c he seemed like he would really mesh with the Ivy League Crew (being an ivy leaguer himself).

 

So the plan was to meet at Penn Station at 9:50 to catch the 10:12 train.  I planned to get there early b/c I wanted to buy cups at Kmart for beverages.  My perfect plan to get to Penn Station in 20 min didn’t quite go as planned (since ALL the red trains decided to skip 59^th st… thanks Urban Sprawl), but I did run into Peace Corpse at Columbus Circle. Penn Station was a goddamn zoo when we got there!  I’ve never seen the lines so long.  Even the secret LIRR ticket machines were crowded.  Don Juan from San Juan called, and we met up with him (i.e., he cut the line we were in), and I taught them how to buy a Beach Getaway Package.  We ran into a few members of the outer circle who had already gotten their tickets, and we told Urban Sprawl (who was at the end of a very long line) that we were going to be in the last car so that we could get a couple of those 6-person buffet seats. 

 

Well, about halfway down, we realized that there weren’t that many people going to Jones Beach because we started seeing empty cards.  We still trekked down to the end car to be easily found.  Apparently Urban Sprawl and his people couldn’t be bothered to walk down to our private car, so we only had about half the group for the train ride.  Don Juan from San Juan and Peace Corpse sat across from me in 6-seater in the middle of the car.  Conveniently enough, the train stopped at Woodside where Ernie joined us (avec his partner, Bert).

 

At one point during the ride, Med School Mess told us about his first night at Chi Chi’s when he thought it would be fun to fake signing to this guy across the bar.  The guy starts signing back. Oops, he’s actually ‘speaking’ ASL, and Med School Mess doesn’t have a clue.  He ends up trying to have a written conversation with the guy.  If you’ve ever heard Med School Mess talk after two drinks, you can only imagine how illegible her handwriting is (appropriate for her field).  Needless to say, that convo didn’t go far at all.

 

Train, train, bus, bus, BEACH!  Actually, a funny thing happened on the way to the East Bathhouse (no, that’s really what they call it!).  We’re all standing at the back of the N88 bus.  I had been drinking a bit on the way (oh, like you’ve never started at 11am), so I really wasn’t editing myself (sorry, kids).  This guy in his 40s was like, “So, where’s the hot beach around here?”  I respond, “Well, it depends on what you’re looking for.”

“What do you mean.”

“Well, the mainstream beach is any one of these stops.  The how you doin’ beach is a bit past East Bathhouse.”

“What’s the how you doin’ beach?”
“Um… the alternative beach?”

Apparently he was ‘straight’.  He was also ‘in his 40s’ and ‘had no ring on his finger’.  Straight up the ass. 

“Could he not hear us talking!” Med School Mess exclaimed when this guy got off the bus.

“Of course he could tell we were gay!  We’ll see him trying to sneak over to our side of the beach later, talkin’ ‘bout “How you doin!”” I answered.  We amused a few fellow East Bathhouse-bound passengers.

 

There must have been at least 15 in our crew.  We passed by a group of demi-hotties about our age, but for some reason, we walked another 30 meters before we set up camp.  Urban Sprawl’s friend MicHELLe (named so mostly because he got drunk as HELL, but partly for a reason that will soon be explained) said something hilariously witty, so I pushed someone out of the way and extended my hand.  “I’m sorry.  You’re black, and I don’t know you.”  We quickly made friends, and pretty soon he was gleefully partaking in my Gatorade bottle of Svedka (I had just bought a case uptown for ridiculously cheap). 

 

Well, at one point, our very wild friend, Breederface, decided to leave the side of his friend (who was trying to teach us this really cool game where you only talk to new people in the form of one-word answers… très fun) decided that he had to pee and that the dunes were the perfect place.

 

FLASHBACK!  Did I ever tell you about the time I got arrested on the beach *cue harp music, dream wave transition*.  It was a day not unlike today.  Large gay group on Jones Beach with music and alcohol.  I always just go to the rope that sets off the dunes from the rest of the beach to pee (of course, looking out for police first).  A friend of a friend had met us on the beach, and she wanted to go over the dunes to pee.  I stumbled over with her, and we took care of business.  Then one of my friends (not connected to the Ivy League Crew, but I had invited him out) and his friend came over to pee.  Then they pounced on the friend of my friend, who put up no fight.  I sat down on a perch to enjoy the show.  Right about the time the friend of the friend's shorts came down, I see 2 guys on 4 wheelers pull up. 

 

We head back to our towels to get our licenses.  They take about a half hour to check our licenses and write us up tickets by hand.  The whole time, the friend of the friend is all like, “Do you know who my father is!  He works for the government!  I’ll get him on the phone right now!  Daddy!  Fish and wildlife is giving me trouble.  I need you to make a phone call.”  Did I mention he was closer to 30 than 20?  Anyway, my address on my South Carolina license was my parents’ address, so a month later (drinking on the Pier), I get an angry phone call from my mom.  “Just mail me the ticket, and I’ll take care of it.”  Well, a month later, she had forgotten to mail it, and she ended up just paying it herself.  And she wonders why I’m spoiled.

 

So it wasn’t a Naomi Campbell walk across the beach, but it definitely put a damper on the day. 

 

So, back to the present.  Breederface had obvi not heard this story yet.  “How much was yours?’  “I don’t know: my mom paid it.”

 

After that, Bottomless Pitt insisted on “doing another Destiny’s Child” (see Hide Your Public Liquor) back to the bathhouse.  Med School Mess was in the water, so we ditched her and hired her replacement, MicHELLe.  On our way, these two hoodrats  stopped us and asked us to take a picture with them.  I was a bit confused b/c 1) I wasn’t sure if they knew we were gay (straight guys wear speedos, right?) 2) stuff like that only happens to me at Black Pride and 3) shouldn’t LaShawn and LaDawn be on Coney Island or something?  Anyway, we took pictures with them. I cursed myself for leaving my copy of Kanye West’s first CD at home b/c I totally recognized their voices from that interlude: “Workout Plan”.

 

We eventually make our way towards the bathroom, but the sand is about 150 degrees Celsius.  I sprint while they do a little sand-so-hot prance in front of the straight people.  It wasn’t until I was washing my hands that I realized how extremely small my speedo was.  I mean, it fit, but it was just a very, um, slim cut in the front.  When we got back, Med School Mess was not pleased.  “Bitch, you can pee in the ocean!”

For part 2, click here.