Picture The Saint or Party Monster

I had run into an acquaintance, MoH (Map of Hawaii, since that's were he's from), at Chelsea Hotel.  He had told me about this party at a club called Greenhouse in SoHo on Sunday night.  You guessed it: open bar.

So how did I meet MoH?  We volunteered together for The Men Event’s booth together at the Gay Expo at the end of last winter.  Hugh, proprietor of The Men Event, had sent an email saying to wear all black.  “The sexier, the better.”  In my head, that translates as a black tank top and slim slacks.  Everyone else translated it to a black collared shirt.  So naturally, I’m the whore of the group (and this was while I was bulking up for summer, so I looked extra slutty).  MoH and I took our break at the same time and bolted in search of the free liquor samples.  

One booth had these amazing hand towels with rainbow-colored sperm on them. 

“They’re free.  You just have to let us take a picture of you making out for our website.”  

It’s a nifty towel, and let me tell you: it comes in handy often.  God, I really am a slut.  Anyway, I see MoH out and about every now and then, and we text somewhat regularly.

After hearing MoH's description, I did a little research, and it looked like it could be a smaller and tamer version of what I pictured New York to be like in the early 80s.  Picture The Saint or Party Monster but not quite.  When parties used to be a real spectacle and a drag queen wasn’t the shock-and-awe of the scene.

I sent a Facebook email out and got the usual lukewarm response to trying something new, but conveniently enough, SoHo Crush wanted me to come over that Sunday.  After a disco nap, I headed to his place to drop off my overnight bag and convinced him to come out with me.  “You know, the last open bar I went to, I only stayed 2 minutes because it was so insanely crowded.  SoHo Crash was literally 3 inches from my face, and I couldn’t hear him!  I’m just going to peek my head in tonight… I don’t do open bars,” he said as he changed his shirt 3 times.  I reminded him, “You came to Chelsea Hotel last week, and you loved it.”

SoHo Crush and I walked over to the venue just after 10, and there was absolutely no line.  The woman in the fur coat outside said nothing about a list or anything; she just smiled, greeted, and opened the velvet rope. 

  

Let me tell you, Greenhouse’s space is amazing.  A full-ceiling chandelier, faux foliage, elevated tables along the side, and a raised VIP-looking area in the back (though no one was guarding it that I could see).  And it’s all “green” (for example, all the lighting effects were LED).  The music was like… picture the East Village with really hot remixes of 70s music that you don’t know.  I could definitely deal!

Morehead had arrived before us (somehow on his 3rd drink in 10 minutes).  As the night went on, his gay lisp started to grow, and more freaks started to show up. 

“No she is not wearing silver leggings and a bedazzled fanny pack.”

To quote Bonquiqui, “Yes I did, girl!  Yes I did!”

And this is an all-inclusive party.  I think two opposing groups have joined forces.

We love kilts.  And combat boots.  

So imagine my delight to see them together!  If the X was over his mouth, I would have to ditch SoHo Crush for the night.

I don’t think it was the 7th, but the moon was definitely in the house.

At one point, I started using Morehead as bait for pictures.  He’s cute; he’s mini; he’s drunk.  What’s there not to love? 

But then he started throwing himself

Into every

Single

Picture

But he was soon distracted upon getting sandwiched by guys from Long Island.

Oh, and just a warning: if you plan on coming to this party and you’re tall,

Don’t plan on sitting down in the bathroom.  You have about a foot and a half of clearance between the commode (haha! I always thought that was a hilarious word) and the door. 

OO, did I mention the burlesque show?

This party had a bit of everything.  Except leather.  And if I had the budget, I’d gladly complete the gay circle of life at this amazing party.  I didn't even show the white Arab, the modern Napoleon, or the other over-the-top makeup jobs in attendance.  Did I mention the week after was a holiday?  Yeah.  

NYC is ridiculously cold right now.  Click here to warm up with a beach trip.

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