the doorman (who I think has been spotted in porn before)

Note: you may find the tags (to the lower right) and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

The Ivy League Crew hit Jones Beach again.  It was originally going to be Fire Island, but do you really wanna travel close to 3 hours one-way to a location on a day when most of the people will be headed back to the city?

 

Bottomless Pitt, Med School Mess, and I had planned to wear our pink “Hot As Hell” t shirts on the way to the beach because when the hell else would we get to wear them?  I even sent texts out to the group (b/c I had woken up way too early) reminding them of when to arrive, adding a sentence at the end to remind Med School Mess and Bottomless Pitt to wear their shirts.  Why did Med School Mess show up in a white t shirt?  “Oh, right.  I saw your text, and I was like, ‘I know when we need to show up!’ so I didn’t read it.”  Good job, hun.  “Is MicHELLe coming?  Destiny’s Child needs to replace a member!”

 

The water was surprisingly far up the beach.  It was rough water on Fire Island the day before as well (I guess due to some hurricane).  As soon as we got past the main part of the beach going towards the gay section, we started seeing speedos!  “The gays started early today!  Love it!”  (Usually, you don’t start seeing gays until at least 1 or 200 yards past where the dunes start.)  It was a beautiful day, and it definitely brought out the beautiful boys.  We ended up camping out next to some rather loud Cheer New York boys who insisted on addressing everyone as “Trannaaayyyy!”  I guess I can’t knock them b/c the hottest boy on the beach walked over when they called him over.  Of course, they got nowhere with him, but he did come over. 

There was a rumor that the City of Hempstead couldn’t afford to police the beach that day, so there was a slight air of anything goes (not that kind of anything goes, whore).  I remained wary, “That could just be someone lying trying to indirectly gay bash us!”  People were all over the dunes peeing, and they were definitely not getting “arrested”.

 

Someone made an observation that was kind of flattering, but I want to clear this up so that there is no confusion from now on.  Someone said, “D. Kareem, you have a new item of swim wear every time we go to the beach!”  That is not true.  I have 7 pieces of swim wear, one of which I keep at the office for “emergencies” (i.e., if I stay at a boy’s place and we plan a last-minute beach or pier trip... don't laugh; it happened recently).  I buy 2 or 3 pieces a year (on sale), and I rotate strategically to avoid over exposure.  I take my beach adventures very seriously.

 

(Rutgirls doesn’t think I see her talking to that hot couple to the right of us.  She better worrrrrrrk!)

 

As we continued to drink, the waves continued to creep up the beach.  It would have been awesome for surfing, but not for keeping your stuff dry.  We saw some unfortunate gays get all wet and decided to move a few feet back.  20 minutes later, another giant wave washed up.  Many gays went to work constructing levies and ditches out of sand to protect their things.  So industrious, those gays.  Well, even with a Masters in Urban Planning on our side, we ended up dragging our stuff up to the foot of the dunes.  At that point, I was totally over it and ready to go, but most of the guys wouldn’t let the dream die.  France Pants, Bottomless Pitt, and I ditched, but the others were about a half hour behind us.

 

And is a gay day at the beach ever enough?  Even on a Sunday?  HELL no!  Let’s go to CHI CHI’S!  We tried to do our best to get France Pants to join us, but she was determined to go to dinner with straight people.  So in our matching pink tank tops, Bottomless Pitt and I pulled up a stool to at the bar and set our minds to drankin’. 

 

This fat guy comes in and sits next to me.  I’m being my usual tragically gay self during the two-for-one special, and somehow we start talking (which is kind of great b/c the creepy guy next to us swooped down on Bottomless Pitt and not me… take one for the team, girl [or 8]!).  Turns out Monsieur Fatigue is a Cornell (non-honors) grad!  And a snobby bitch!  I made some faux pas about the difference between Champagne and white wine, which he quickly corrected.  Ugh, I’m over it.  If you’re gonna be fat and talk to me at the bar, let me be dumb and pretty!  Anyway, he gave me his number on a hilarious card: 

The owner of this card invites you to

            ( ) a drink

            ( ) lunch

            ( ) dinner and a movie

            ( ) spend the night

Funny, but dude, you live in Bed-Stuy.  Brooklyn’s cute, but I’m not looking for a longer morning-after work commute (or trip to the bullet wound ward of King’s County Hospital).

 

Meanwhile, the doorman (who I think has been spotted in porn before) was taking shots on the job.  And also has been making eyes at Bottomless Pitt, which she didn’t hesitate in the least to reciprocate. 

 

I, on the other hand, had run into a friend of a past hookup.  The story behind this was that the hookup was on a break from his partner at the time when I met him.  They ended up getting back together, but he would call me when he got restless (or drunk… did I mention I always see him ridiculously drunk… but he has this charming smile… and by smile, I mean house on the Jersey Shore).  Anyway, we haven’t hooked up in forever, but I ran into him maybe 6 months ago Chi Chi’s, and he introduced me to his just-as-attractive-and-charming friend.  This friend and I had a long conversation that night, and I was so into him.  Too bad he could tell.  So when I saw him on this particular post-beach night, he called me on it a couple of times as he passed by my stool at the bar.  I was heated because I’m usually good at playing ambiguous until it’s opportunistic for me to actually make it obvious that I like a guy.  He saw right through me, and all my fucking cards were on the table.

 

Bottomless Pitt is making out with the doorman.  Wow wow wow wow.

 

Crap, it’s 1am!  Did I mention we got to the bar around 5:30?  Yeah.

 

Cast of Characters

You think it’s hard to keep up with the characters in this blog? These hoes expect me to know their names and their friends’ names! But I'm determined to make this blog accessible to people who don't know me (and even people who have never been to NYC!), so here’s a little help for you. The class year refers to age more than when they graduated from college (yeah, I know… but straightforward's boring!). Think of this as a cast of the blog’s most recurring characters, and check the tags to your right for references to characters not listed here. You can thank Ray (along with a few other confused readers).

Architect

"So after a very leisurely (yet jarring) lunch, we make our way to The Architect’s Fabulous Seaside Palace. The Architect is a fuck-buddy-turned-actual-friend that I met two years ago online.... he sells shares in his massive house on the weekends and lives out there during the week in the summer..." The hostess with the mostest. Anything he plans (be it a multimillion-dollar airport terminal or dinner at his house) will be perfect to the most minute detail. Class of '80-[muffled].

ASFKAB

“[We met] my good friend Artist Soon to be Formally Known As the Bear (ASFKAB, we’ll call him this because he is supposedly getting laser hair removal) on the same drunken beach day France Pants met Bologna, a guy he hooked up with briefly.” She's the closest thing we have to a bear (more muscle than fat, and she likes to make Wookiee sounds). She was class of ’06 and grew up on Long Island (making her one of the Long Island Gays).

Bitter Commie Grad Student

Well, Bitter Commie really didn’t get a proper introduction. Anyway, he was part of the Ivy League Crew, he’s Canadian, and during his time in NYC, he was perpetually broke despite having two middle names. He's also a pretty snazzy dresser. After finishing grad school and hanging around in the city for a few months after, he returned to... somewhere outside Toronto to find work. Class of '06.

Bologna

“Ironically enough, I met my good friend Artist Soon to be Formally Known As the Bear (ASFKAB, we’ll call him this because he is supposedly getting laser hair removal) on the same drunken beach day France Pants met Bologna, a guy he hooked up with briefly.” Also a small liberal arts grad, but she' made up for it by getting a Masters (i.e., actual job skills) in lip gloss or something like that (she works in cosmetics). A friend of ASFKAB and roommate (and friend) of Dill Pickle. One of the Long Island Gays. Class of ’04.

Bottomless Pitt

“The Bottomless Pitt (known for her insatiable thirst for whiskey or any other available liquor, and also for her weekly and-that-was-the-first-time-I-bottomed story)”. A PhD candidate and one of the other black “girls” in the Ivy League Crew. From the south side of Chicago (not the projects but they were across the street). Before him, I never knew that there were Ivy League schools with honors programs . Class of ’07.

Chi Chi's

Okay, so it's actually called Chi Chiz. Whatever. This is Manhattan's black gay bar (but white and other people do come). They have cheap drinks, somewhat friendly bartenders, and fried chicken (not even joiking). But the best part is the crowd, which tends to be a mix of (a few) intelligent guys that love the tragic atmosphere and guys classless enough to ask the aforementioned segment to buy them a drink. There was a time when I wouldn't go to this bar with fewer than 3 drinks in my system, but now it's just a matter of convincing the boys to come with me.

Dill Pickle

“ASFKAB, Bologna, and Dill Pickle (Bologna’s roommate) have hung out with us a lot more than France Pants lately.” He’s into some kind of computer programming. Yet he'll jump into a pool naked. He has a car and real estate, and he’s single, boys! Class of ’02. One of the Long Island Gays.

D. Kareem

“About me: I’m a black guy from the South who now lives in NYC. Oh, and I happen to be kinda gay. And, at times inappropriate.” I’m the guy that people ask to make playlists. The guy who yells something insulting at you when you ignore my “hey” at the bar. The guy who will gladly deal with any bar below 59th st if I get to see you squirm at a bar above 125th street (and then admit you had a good time). Oh, and I write this blog. Part of Destiny's Child, En Vogue, the Ivy League Crew (though I'm definitely not an Ivy-League victim, um, alumnus). Class of ’05.

Don Juan from San Juan

"I glided to the cash register area to meet up with Don Juan from San Juan (who also works in midtown but didn’t bother to call me until he had already gotten to the damn store)." We met her through Rosey. She's fun when she makes it out, but his life is consumed by straight people (his fam in DC, friends from college, et cetera). No, he's not Spanish: he's (half) Boriqua, and he's class of '07.

Destiny’s Child

When Bottomless Pitt (Beyonce), Med School Mess (Michelle), and I (the one who hasn’t fallen yet) are in the same room.

En Vogue

When Bottomless Pitt (Cindy b/c he’s “light-skindid 'cause I got Churokee in my family” [may or may not be a direct quotation]), Med School Mess (Terry), MicHELLe (Maxine, b/c she’s the shortest one), and I (Dawn b/c I called it) are in the same room.

Ernie

“I kissed the Architect goodbye and met up on the beach with France Pants and his friend Ernie (sans his partner, Bert) who had come out from Manhattan for the day with his very cute friend.” Way too well traveled for her own good, which is only augmented by the fact that she lives with Bert in Queens, NY. Class of ’03.

Fire Island (FiPi and FichGro)

FiPi = Fire Island Pines (more expensive, think Hell's Kitchen or Chelsea), and FichGro = Cherry Grove (think the Village). A magical island where rich NYC gays go to show their money and poor gays go to freeload and front. You'll usually win points in the City if you say "Oh, yes I have a (quarter/half/full) share out there," which typically starts somewhere around $1700 plus food, alcohol, and protein powder (cheaper in the Grove). Well how does one get there from NYC? "A typical schedule may look like this: you catch the Long Island Railroad (LIRR, one of our commuter train systems) at 10:12 out to Babylon and transfer to another train to get to Sayville at about 11:50. There are vans waiting for you, and you pay them to take you to the 12:20 ferry, which arrives at the Pines a bit before 1." A round trip costs about $30. Anyone with any sense would only put themselves through this ordeal for a day trip once just for the experience. We tend to do it 3 or 4 times throughout the summer. Expect exclusive house parties (and don't bring guests if you're invited), crowded Tea Dances, $9 drinks (that are about 8oz.), cute speedos, anonymous photo blogs, and plenty of attitude. The Grove is much more laid back and diverse from my limited experience.

The Ivy League Crew

“My clique: The Ivy League Crew (ILC) often refers to a core group of 3 or 4 guys and myself (though I did not [thankfully] go to an Ivy) as well as a rotating group of… I don’t know, maybe 15 or 20 other guys, most of whom did undergrad at an Ivy. Sometimes we all show up at the same place at the same time (a mess). Most of us are snobs about something, and we drink way too much.” Need I say more?

Lionel

“The fact that Don Juan was coming was extra sweet because he definitely got the attention of the owner of the bar, Lionel. This meant we would get to do free shots while Don Juan stroked his long, thick mane.” We love him because he’s crazy fun (he’s just backed up to me on a dancefloor at a club without saying hi or making eye contact... just started tick-grinding with me… hilarious!). I secretly want to be like him when I grow up. Class of… maybe somewhere in the 90’s(-ish).

Long Island Gays

This clique refers to the boys we know from Long Island (sort of). Usually, it consists of Bologna, Dill Pickle, ASFKAB, and Daredevil (all of whom now live in the City of New York) among others. The Ivy League Crew often combines forces with them for increased impact.

Med School Mess

“Urban Sprawl for some reason had given the Med School Mess his phone to get him in. I guess our friend US (who is not from the US) didn’t want to spend the 10 cents to send the SMS to MSM (must have been his Dominican side talking). Anyway, the Med School Mess was indeed a mess, and disappeared with Urban Sprawl’s phone, sending Urban Sprawl on a sprawling mission covering both floors of the club.” Mess is one of the first people I met in the Ivy League Crew (on a beach adventure, in fact). I pray to God I don’t get stuck in her HMO. Her parties always involve an excuse to wear glo-stick glasses. We have a running gag about her living in the Almost East Side (since the Upper East Side ends at 96th st). Class of ’05.

MicHELLe

MicHELLe may be one of the funniest people you come across. She's also a roller coaster enthusiast, but don't tell anybody. She knows ALL the words to "When I Grow Up" by the Pussycat Dolls, and she's a proud former resident of the Almost East Side (moved to Hell's Kitchen). Ivy League Crew et. al. Class of '07.

Morehead

She gets her name from working in college admissions (it's the name of an actual scholarship... god knows what you have to do to qualify for that). This queen went from the fat girl to having the best 6 pack I've seen in real life. A non-Ivy member of the Ivy League Crew et. al., he gets more action in bars than a tip jar. Look for the short guy posing with his head cocked slightly to the left and his mouth agape.

No Parking

This is a newer gay bar (opened in '06, I think) in Washington Heights (a Dominican neighborhood in Manhattan, and the first place in NYC where I lived after moving from my grandmother's). The crowd is mostly Dominican, but there's usually a strong black presence with a quite few others mixed in. People literally come from all neighborhoods to gawk at the go-go gods on the bar and dance to pop, hip hop, raggaeton, merengue, and bachata. While most NYC bars tend to hit their peak around 2-2:30 (or earlier), this place gets going around midnight and stays packed til it closes. Lionel owns the bar.

Pieces

This bar is a mess, and it's a favorite for old and young alike. One of the most popular nights is Tuesday for Karaoke. We go for the relaxed atmosphere and the cheapest drinks in The City ($4 well drinks, wine, and champagne... half price for happy hour in '09). Plus it's conveniently located in the Village. They often decorate the bar for themed parties. It's the perfect gay dive.

Pubic Finance

Aptly named for his field of his graduate study. Yet another Ivy league victim, uh, grad. She's usually seen with her boyfriend, Taye Diggs, but she's surprisingly flirty when she comes out by herself. A west coast (Seattle? Portland?) girl who has been integrated into the City lifestyle and a resident of the *shudder* Lower East Side. Class of '05.

SoHo Crush

A guy I dated for about a year (with a couple of short break ups). He owned a ridiculous loft in SoHo when I met him, but sold it and moved to Brooklyn. He used to work in Hollywood (actor, director, screenwriter), and his with and sense of humor is one of a kind. Oh, and he has a nice ass. Class of '80-something.

Urban Sprawl

“For this particular party, there are a few ways to get in free, and one of them is a text from the promoter. Urban Sprawl for some reason had given the Med School Mess his phone to get him in. I guess our friend US (who is not from the US) didn’t want to spend the 10 cents to send the SMS to MSM (must have been his Dominican side talking).” Turns out she’s the only one in her family from the US. Who knew. She’s the queen of all things New York (let’s face it: you’re born into that kind of thing). If we were a Sorority, she’d be social chair. She can’t let a single factual error go (see any comments section on the blog), and she works for the MTA (meaning she could hault or advance the schedule of any mode of NYC transportation with the flash of a badge). A recent recipient of a Masters in Urban Planning (of course). And the most consistent presence in the Ivy League Crew (mostly b/c I’ll ditch at any moment). Class of... um... ’90-something?

TTT

We met on her first trip to FiPi. She got drunk and made out with me and 2 or 3 other guys. Our sexual tension resolved to friendship. She works for a major broadcast corporation and did her undergrad and masters (I still don't see how she has an engineering degree) at the same Ivy (she stays loosely associated with the Ivy League Crew). And put the knife away: she's not that kind of Cuban.