Black to the Future

Of course, Friday started at Chelsea Hotel.  The first to show up was Morehead.  And he had a friend.  A very cute friend.  Morehead whispers in my ear: “We met in the steam room [at Shequinox, the gym].”  Did I mention that snarfing screwdriver is the worst buzzkill ever (even when its free)?  Yeah.

After the open bar ended, I convinced the group to migrate to Chi Chi’s.  Morehead spend most of the time making out with his date (they may have been the only two white guys in the bar) before sending the poor guy home by himself!  SoHo Crush met up with us, and the other boys peaced out soon thereafter (we were doing the whole lovey-dovey couple thing, so I can’t blame them).

SoHo Crush and I ended up at Marie’s Crisis.  The only other time I had been to Marie’s Crisis was about 3 years ago with Rosebud.  We walked out 5 seconds later.  It’s literally a basement with a bar and a piano.  Some guy plays accompaniment (does he even work there?) while 25 men stand around the piano drinking and belting out show tunes.  It was a mess, and we were just messy enough to endure it (and die laughing).

Saturday, I made my way home from SoHo in the early afternoon.  I managed to drag my ass out of bed to see 5-foot 8x6 at Pieces Happy Hour, and he squealed and poured me a drink that was way too strong.  Turns out we were both planning to go to Mr. Black for Tighty Whitey’s birthday.  Sweet!

I gulped down the drink before heading out to see Naked Boys Singing with Pecs (for $20 bucks).  Last time I had seen Pecs was election night because he lives part time in Colorado for work (if they paid me what they pay him, I’d commute, too). 

Pecs isn’t exactly the most punctual person, and he likes to switch things up sometimes.  He told me at the last minute that he’d be late and that his friend, whom I didn’t know, would be joining us.  Well, at least his friend was on time.  Basically, instead of showing up 30 minutes early, Pecs showed up 20 minutes late.  But the accidental date with his friend went very well (since Pecs couldn’t find us once he got into the show).  That’s definitely not the first time something like that has happened, but luckily, his friend was pretty cool.

After Greek dining at Uncle Nick's, I headed back to Pieces to kill an hour and a half before Mr. Black.  5-foot 8x6 was done working and was having a drink with a cute-ish boy.  He became a lot less cute(-ish) when he gave me the I-couldn’t-be-less-enthused-by-your-presence handshake upon introduction.  It soon came out that the guy was a dancer who was really into 5-foot 8x6 (let’s just say the feeling wasn’t mutual).

I spent most of the hour and a half talking to a former hookup and his friend (while said former hookup’s partner [who was standing with them] ignored me, which turned out to be more hilarious than awkward) and texting dumb-dancer jokes back and forth with 5-foot 8x6. 

5 and I left Pieces and couldn’t even get past Stonewall (a couple of blocks away) without him running into someone he knew.  We made a brief stop for pizza for him.  Did I mention 5-foot talks a mile-a-minute?

“You sure you don’t want anything?”

“I’m fine?”

“Here, lemme buy you something!”

“I can’t eat pizza.  I’m lactose intolerant.  Plus I just ate.”

“Oh… I’ve been single for 2 and a half years!  Do you think I’m cute?  Would you have sex with me?  Are you a top?!”

“Fivey, of couse you’re cute, and of course I’d have sex with you.  Just face down.”

“That’ll work; let’s go.”

 

We arrived at Mr. Black and were told to wait on some bench because someone didn’t have their list together yet.  Meanwhile, we’re missing precious minutes of our 5^th open bar (in 3 days)!  The person finally got their shit together, and we headed over to the bar.

The party was called Black to the Future.  When I first saw this on Facebook, my head did an involuntary cock to the side.  But the name of the club is Mr. Black, so I let it go. 

Wait, does that poster really say 'Jungle Fever'?

Are these masks strewn about the walls meant to be African masks?

And monkeys?

Really?

I forget how many leaves marijuana has (take that, racial stereotype!), but it’s already pretty over-the-top so far.  And if you’re gonna use “my people” as a theme, how about mixing in a bit of our music?  It was all gay music.  So, so gay.  Not even gay remixes of pop music.  But I can’t say it was dull.

The lollypop guild took quite a liking to me (that's the actual difference in our heights).

And I don’t think that cage is supposed to hold that many people 10 feet in the air. 

I hung in there until about 1 or so.  As much fun as being a party prop was, I felt it was time to get some time in a bit closer to home at a venue where I knew the words to the music they played (even if half of it wasn’t English). 

And of course, I ran into That Guy at No Parking. 

“You know this ass is here for you anytime you want it, right?”

“That’s good to know.  But you know how I want it, right?”

*rolls eyes* “I know, I know: with a condom… I might have to think about that.”

You do that, kid. 

Did I mention as of Feb 1^st, I now live a 5-10 minute walk from No Parking?  Yeah.

Click here to check out an un-fabulous night.

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