Saturday morning, I managed to get some (much needed) laundry done, and I was only a bit late for the Cornell NYC Gay Pride party. It was just east of 5th ave, but it was open bar, so we’ll forgive the location. What’s that? It’s open wine and beer?! Shit, that’s not what it said on the Facebook invitation! Hell no, I didn’t go to Cornell! Oh, right… make mine a white wine, please.
Of course, the Ivy League Crew (which isn’t the most precise term to use in a gay Cornell party) is in the back hovering over the area that once housed the (free) food. I move a couple of the girls over closer to the bar, and we proceed to feed ourselves around 4 glasses of wine in about a half hour. And who walks in the door? Bunifa.
“Hey, girl,” I greet her.
“Hey, so why wasn’t I invited to your party?” HUH?!
“Oh, girl, come here! Good to see you!”
I have no words.
So we’re drinking, we’re drinking. Someone introduces me to this fine-ass dude who is a comic. I mean, he is cute as hell, but I can’t focus when I’m around my friends and being fed alcohol. Call me? (I had to settle for a Facebook invite.)
“Why are you holding that plastic bear of honey?”
“Duh, bears love honey!”
Yes, because after the Cornell party, ASFKAB and I were slated to meet up for the Bear Cruise (i.e., Sea Tea… someone in the Ivy League Crew coined the term Bear Cruise because… well, have you seen the pictures on the website? We had an unbelievable time when we went last year). And this isn’t just any Bear Cruise. This is the Muscle Bear themed Bear Cruise (i.e., just chain me from the ceiling and the floor with a condom on both sides). I had bought myself a little plastic jar of honey shaped like a bear (my bear bait), and to up the ante, I had made it a little harness out of a black hair elastic. Somehow, his harness ended up turned into a collar (thanks, Prada Bag… did you even go to Cornell?). I had the foresight to bring a spare.
Eventually the open wine ended, which meant there was absolutely no reason to stay east of 5th ave. The Crew was headed to Pubic Finance’s place in the E.vil (damnit!), but I still needed to print out my receipt for the cruise. Did I mention that it was pouring raining out? I ran to the Staples on whatever ave is just east of 5th, and I tried to turn downtown at the corner. Too bad the wet sidewalk was fucking marble! I totally wiped out and landed square on my ass! Okay, nobody saw that. I picked myself up and walked to the Staples.
Oh, and this whole time, I was wearing a rather small sleeveless hoodie and a pair of shorts that were a little too big in the waist. And a red and white jock strap. I think a few people got a show at the Cornell party.
Receipt in hand, I call ASFKAB, and he’s at Pieces. I’m really supposed to meet him around the time that I’m calling him, and I feel bad b/c he’s all alone at that awful(ly wondrous) bar, so I ditch the Ivy League Crew and go to meet him.
I get there, and she has Bologna, Dill Pickle, and about 10 other boys there to entertain her! I need to remember that ASFKAB (along with any other mainstream gay my age) doesn’t go anywhere alone. I have a couple of drinks there before we set out for the West Side Highway. We get to 7th Ave (about 2 aves from our destination) and ASFKAB insists on taking a cab. Well, if you’re paying for it…
The shit that went down on that boat was amazing. A couple hundred shirtless guys, a DJ, and views of the harbor (if you’re into that sort of thing). We meet up with one of ASFKAB’s friends who is, despite his young age, kind of physically ideal for the venue. I think I freaked him out a bit when I started flirting with him (oh my god, he’s black!), but he did take a very sexy picture with me. I convinced them to hover near the buffet table (free with the cruse! Yes!) until they started serving, which turned out to be a great idea b/c we got seats at the tables to WOOF down our food.
At one point, I dropped the Bear Bait, and one of the guys who manages the boat called me over. Of course, I didn’t know he works for them, so I’m all flattered thinking he wants to buy me a drink (that’ll be a first in months that didn't involve a date… in fact, if you’re over 35 and you’re reading this, buy a young guy you don't know a drink this week!). He said something about being careful with the bear b/c honey is really hard to clean up. “Wow, that sounds like experience talking. But I have no intention of opening it, and I’ll be very careful with it.” Wink, smile, walk away (thirsty!).
After the feeding, we grabbed another drink and headed upstairs. We spend most of our time on the dance floor growling, woofing, giggling, and (of course) dancing. There was this go-go dancer who was the definition of raunch! He had a police officer uniform on at first and then took a hiatus, returning in a rather skimpy leather getup. Between his performances, ASFKAB expressed desire to get up on the platform and dance. I wasn’t really even feeling the music like that, and I hate being that guy. I suggested he do it since he can actually dance (unlike 90 percent of people who want to get up on a platform at a party) and because it was actually his target audience (and he theirs… bears are narcissistic that way). Somehow, 2 minutes later, I’m up there, shirt off, jock out (just the top, not the whole thing!), werkin’ it with ASFKAB. How do I get into situations like this!
The cruise shoved of at 7:30. By about 9, the two of us were pretty over it, which was unfortunate because we weren’t scheduled to dock until 10. Meanwhile I was supposed to hit up two house parties by 11:30. One in HK and one in the financial district (on the 50th floor of a building!). We finally get off the floating hairball at around 10:20, and my Bear Bait hadn’t worked at all. ASFKAB was going to Frat Boy’s party in the financial district. I, however, had told Rosey months ago that he should have a party on this date, so I felt obligated to head uptown (plus, half my friends were there anyway).
I got to Rosey’s and was said to myself, fuck it; I’ve been shirtless half the day. Why not. So off came the shirt again. Of course, I got some flack from haters, and I’d look like an asshole for saying anything clever. So we’ll just acknowledge that the hate was there and take it as a compliment! A few more drinks, a lot more inappropriate comments, and way too much swatting hands from trying to touch my nips. Wait, are you really playing Edward 40 hands after college? And you’re letting people document this with their cameras? I see…
This is an uptown-bound ditch express train. Next stop: No Parking. Why did I get there and stand in line for almost an hour? Why? Because the fire marshal had just busted them the night before, and the police were parked across the street. And of course, I beat Don Juan from San Juan, and Lionel was nowhere to be found. I finally get in, and it’s sparse. Don Juan finally shows up. Lionel seemed a bit distant when he got there (and no shots for us). The 3 of us were hanging out just after they had closed the bar, and I felt my phone vibrate. Who the hell is texting me a 4:15?
“Shit! I gotta go now! Have a good night, y’all.”
Did I mention he lives a block from me? Yeah.
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2 comments:
You might have enjoyed the "hunny" more if you did what I did, which was to fill it w/ vodka instead (from someone's stash from a party where I didn't know the people)
I miss you Ho.
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