I really don’t remember much of the first weekend of March.
Friday was Urban Sprawl’s 29th birthday, so she had everyone meet up at Dallas BBQ after work. I had my reservations about this because BBQ is notorious for not seating you until your whole party is present, and they don’t take reservations. I know these gays well, and I guessed that few would be on time. But somehow, she secured us a big enough table for everyone to fit.
And she brought her mother.
(That was someone else's balloon. Urban Sprawl's closer to 31.)
I tried not to curse in front of Mrs. Sprawl. I really did. But when all your friends’ middle names are Bitch, that gets really challenging. And once that Texas-sized frozen apple martini with the extra shot starts to hit, it’s over.
Urban Sprawl had also invited his real-girl friend, College Girl (class of ’90-something?). She and Urban Sprawl met through grad-school connections, and she’s always the life of the party. College Girl had brought her much more mild-mannered fiancée, and it was apparent as soon as I sat down that the table next to her that she was starting to feel her very large drink (and that she was not used to very large drinks). About 5 minutes after I sat down, College Girl’s fiancée had taken her drink from her and insisted that I take her extra test-tube shot.
With College Girl on one side and MicHELLe on the other, the dinner was nothing but a total giggle fest for me. At one point, I got everyone to stop blabbering so I could make a toast to my comrade:
“Urban Sprawl is a dear friend and the reason why most of us know each other. Let’s raise our glasses to long life, good looks, and lots of di— [crap, not in front of his mother] uh, drinking!”
This was around the time that I remembered that I was planning on meeting Pecs at Baña that night, but I had forgotten my bag with my flip flops and speedo. I downed a drink right before we paid the check (which is not easy to do when it's 15 or 20 oz and frozen) in case there was a long line at Chelsea Hotel. Of course we didn’t get to CHotel until 10:05, and of course the line was ridiculous.
Urban Sprawl: “We’re good. Med School Mess and her boyfriend left early to save us a spot.”
Me: “Bitch, there’s like 10 of us. That’s not gonna work!”
Only 4 of us actually went in line. The others somehow found a way to cut the line and go in ahead of us.
I was bitter until I got the following text from Urban Sprawl: I’m in, and I got a drink waiting for you.
Now that’s a good goddamn friend!
I left CHotel around 11 to go back up 150 blocks (on a local train!!), grab my bag, and I trekked back down about 200+ blocks (still local) to the Financial District. I had told Pecs to meet me there at 12:45, and it was just after 1. It seemed like a good excuse to talk to the two half-naked guys at the front desk, so I asked if they had seen “a black guy with a British accent” had come through yet. No luck. So I took pictures to pass the time.
The hot-but-cunty clothes-check guy was working with a buddy again (I later found out it was his boyfriend), which may have explained why he’s been so delightful the past two times I’ve gone to Baña. Did I mention he’s actually a pretty well-known porn actor whom I probably shouldn’t be calling cunty? I seriously do need to come up with a better name for him because I’ve never seen him be cunty outside of the first couple of times I went. Plus he’s really hot.
Anyway, I got changed and went downstairs to tinkle (that was a long train ride to be holding it!). As I walked into the restroom, I heard the distinct and unmistakable smack of wet pelvis hitting ass. A not-so-subtle look around a corner confirmed that some twink was, in fact, getting stabbed in the shower.
I got a drink, I went to the steam room, I checked out the pool, I eavesdropped by the Jacuzzi. I don’t remember talking to anyone.
Pecs showed up around 2. Real. Nice. Hun.
I remember most drunk nights in a series of flashes. My shutter speed must have been ridiculously slow, because I really only remember grabbing Pecs’s arm and pulling him into the VIP area towards the end of the night to watch rich guys fuck. I don’t even remember whether I got a good show (who am I kidding… It’s Baña after 3: of course I got a good show)! But I do remember Pecs leaving before they turned the lights on.
Did I mention that the next day’s text from Pecs: Hope you made it with the big dicked black guy… I almost got tempted, lol!? Who?
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