Honey, it’s just black people; they won’t hurt you.

Sunday, I was planning go to go to two once-a-month parties, a fitting way to close out the birthday weekend.  I texted the usual suspects for these parties sometime in the mid afternoon to meet up at Chi Chi’s for their 2-4-1 beforehand.  Well, Uptown Brown, who I thought would at least come to the party uptown, couldn’t make it for whatever reason.  ASFKAB was out on long island for Father’s Day (I tried to call my dad, but ended up talking to my mom for a half hour b/c my dad was still at church… yes, they go to the same church separately… we used to take 3 cars to church when I was a teen and gas was under $2/gal).  Based on what I saw last night, I didn’t even expect Urban Sprawl to make it out of his apartment, let alone Queens.  Don Juan from San Juan had to apply eyelashes, lip liner, curl her hair, and get a pedicure, so she’d be at least another 4 hours.  But good old reliable (i.e., alcoholic) Bottomless Pitt was right there!

 

Bottomless Pitt beat me to Chi Chi’s but waited outside for about 5 min for me to get there.  “Honey, it’s just black people; they won’t hurt you.”  Now that I think about it, I’m not sure whether I said to Bottomless Pitt on Sunday or the night before to ‘Trish (did I mention her last name is Mc Whitey) before I abandoned her, wandering off to talk to some (hopefully) cute dude in the back of Chi Chi’s.  Anyway, we had 2 or 3 lightly colored drinks at the darkly colored bar before making our way to Truck Stop.

 

ASFKAB meets us at Truck Stop along with a new friend, Sex Flags (because he was a performer there … or maybe at another amusement park… whatever, he could sing, apparently).  I was pretty excited because they always have the raunchiest hot tub!  We never get in (remember, I'm allergic to water), but we always make all kinds of inappropriate comments about bringing broth and chopping up veggies for Bear Soup.  We got over the party pretty quickly b/c there was almost no one there (compared to last month).  Don Juan from San Juan was on his way from Astoria, and I didn’t wanna change venues on her before he got out of the train, but the rest of the group socially mugged me into going to the open bar at Hot Mess, which was now at Rush.  Of course, there was a line, and of course it was a wait to get a drink.  The good news is that it wasn’t all twinks anymore; some black people had invaded the space and looked quite comfortable there.  The bad news was that the attitude from the security, the way they were holding people outside to make a line, and the color of the drinks (i.e., the fact that my 3 screwdrivers had a distinct color) led me to believe that straight people had bought the place.  Great, more straight people taking gay money.

 

I was determined to be on our way uptown by 11 sharp b/c we were on the guest list at the Escandalo Nights party (which would only help us up until midnight).  Fung Wah, who joined us at Hot Mess, somehow disappeared right before we needed to leave, holding us up until about 11:04.  We decided that it would be more efficient to walk to West 4th and catch a train than transfer, but since Bottomless Pitt, Don Juan, Fung Wah, and I were together, we agreed that we’d split a gypsy cab.  Then Bottomless Pitt sees an ATM that she doesn’t have to pay for.  Ugh, another stop.  The D train never comes, so we’re like, fuck it; we’re taking the first cab we see!  The yellow cab ends up being less than $30 (but I end up in the front seat somehow… nappy birthday to me).

 

I was heated when the bouncer told us, “Everybody’s on the list.  Get in line.”  Another gay night at a straight club.  Luckily it was only about a 10 minute wait.  I figured it would be Urban Sprawl, Uptown Brown, Don Juan, and me when I put us on the guest list.  Whatevs, the D. Kareem plus 3 worked and saved us all a $15 cover each!

 

After a bouncer pat-down that almost made me want to ask about re-entry privileges, I heard Fung Wah say, “Oh my god!” and start to laugh.  I guess he got why I had said on the way uptown that the club’s décor was obviously done by the Latin club-owner’s girlfriend of 20 years (that’s girlfriend not wife).  It looks like someone had slain a herd of zebra and hung them all over the furniture… and walls… and every-damn-where else that wasn’t the floor.  And all the support beams: palm trees.  White, shiny, plastic palm trees.  A woman walked by with a tray of drinks wearing a zebra-print top, and I couldn’t resist.  I pointed her out and said, *Generic Latin Accent* “oh my god, that’s the interior decorator slash la novia del duño! ¡Ay, dios mio!  If she come over, we hab to tell her she look jus like Selinas!”  Every time she walked by, I gave her the squiggly finger and said, “Wooorrrrrrrrrk!” 

 

It wasn’t long before we ran into Lionel.  Peace out, Don Juan. Okay, it didn’t really happen like that.  They talked for a while before Lionel made his rounds, and it was at least another hour before Don Juan blew us off (shit, if a powerful man were that interested in me, I would have ditched too!).  Soon, I ran into somewhat of a blast from my past, Montel. 

 

Montel was a guy that I had met at No Parking probably over a year ago (back when I used to pick up guys for a self esteem boost and/or a hobby).  We started talking, and got pretty drunk together.  There was some chemistry, but nothing happened.  We had fallen out of touch, which meant I’d called him a couple of times over the next couple of months to hang out (I needed a drinking buddy uptown), but he’d never return my calls.  So anyway, Montel comes up all happy to see me.  The group of us goes into the hip hop room for a while, and at this point, Don Juan is settled in a booth with Lionel and his friends.  I look to my right: Fung Wah has his legs wrapped around Bottomless Pitt’s waist, and Bottomless Pitt is practically swinging Fung Wah between his legs and tossing him up.  I swore someone was going to hit something, but all were injury-free.  Montel took me out to the Latin music room and led me for some salsa and merengue, which was challenging since I’m used to leading.  I have to say, it got a bit heated.  When he went to the bathroom, I was like, “God, I need to go home!”  (I did send him a good-to-see-you text on my way out)  God knows what happened to Fung Wah and Bottomless Pitt at that point.  I do remember hanging outside with Don Juan and Lionel for a bit before taking a leisurely walk home (and missing my illegal sublet on Riverside *tear*). 

 

Did I mention that I had taken the next day off from work?  Did I also mention that I didn’t leave my apartment until 5pm on that next day?  Yeah.