a blast from my past: Principal Skinner

Joey Israel had invited me to Trash Fridays at Splash on Facebook. I was out of town for their opening weekend, and the free admission with $2 drinks made it a good alternative to the throngs of gays at CHotel.

Joey's invite mentioned an underwear exchange: "bring in your oldest, most worn-out undies and exchange them for a new pair of 2xist. First come, first exchanged."

I arrived around 10:15 to make sure I got my pair. Once the bouncer checked my ID, I went to the guy at the register by the door to tell him I was on Joey's "List".

"I don't do the List. You have to talk to the guy outside with the clipboard."  

. o O (Am I going to have to have 3 girls and get bottle service, too?)

Of course, the guy with the clip board was NOT outside.

"I need you to step over there," says the (very hot) bouncer. So now I'm banished to the smokers' pen because some queen isn't holding down her post? After about 2 minutes, Clipboard shows up inside the first door. I step in, and he's talking to a bartender; "well, he's going to have to talk to [someone important] because I wasn't told that bartenders got a list..."

This is why I don't do straight clubs. Splash isn't even straight.

So he finally turns to me, and I tell him I'm on Joey's "List". He rolls his eyes, shuffles through some papers, and writes something down before handing me a comp admission ticket. Great timing because 3 too-old-for-Rush twinks (they were probably about 23) get in line just ahead of me. "That'll be $15 each." Ouch. Thank god for Joey.

The downstairs of Splash had totally been transformed. It actually reminded me of a frat party with trash bags overing the walls and the caution tape from the ceiling. Urban Sprawl got there around 10:30. We were sitting in the lounge area, and a punk-hipster-looking white guy came over. "God, this music sucks. It's gonna change, but the DJ does't get here til 11."

. o O (...And you are?)

"Pop music?" I asked a bit too eagerly.

"Fuck no! Like rock and rap and that sort of mix."

"Oh."

Urban Sprawl and I gave each other the who-the-fuck-was-that look as the dude walked away. When he walked back by, I asked, and he confirmed that he was one of the promoters. I guess I was just supposed to recognize him?

The gay music faded. There was about 30 seconds of dead air. Then it changed to east-village gay music. Great.

We met up with MoH, who was waiting on an out-of-town friend in the elevated part of the bar. As we were shooting the shit, I noticed a guy and (very made-up) woman scoping out the bar surface in front of us.

"So, are you performing?" I asked, leaning over to her once the guy left.

"Yes, later on."

"Oh, nice! What do you do?"

"Burlesque."

"Sweet! What's your name?"

“Miss Tickle."

I'm not sure if it was my obsession with Miss Piggy or “Miss Honey” that got me, but I was an instant fan.

And she gave us quite a show.

I've never seen burlesque shows anywhere else, but the women in NYC give really great, dramatic, clever performances in NYC. Those are baby-bottle nipples, by the way.

We got over it around 1230 or so and peaced out (before the underwear exchange) for Chi Chi's.

Bottomless Pitt walked about 15 minutes later, wearing something tight and sleeveless. We all started to greet him, but what we saw next caught us all totally off guard: Bitter Commie Grad Student stumbled into the bar. She and Pitt had been pre-gaming with Chris Ryan (a notorious promoter) and a bunch of (underage) twinks (Mr. Ryan’s reputed target audience), so Bitter Commie was grumbling and glaring even more than usual her usual drunk self. She lasted about 20 minutes before growling something about going home and vanishing into the darkness of Christopher St.

 

After a drink there, Pitt dragged us to the Hangar for their late-night happy hour. Just as I was getting my first drink, I saw a blast from my past: Principal Skinner.

I met Principal Skinner in December (the last time SoHo Crush dumped me), and we started hooking up/dating for a bit. He's handsome, cubbish, and always wears hats, even though he has a full head of hair. Around class of '90. We met at the Hangar while I was out with Bottomless Pitt (of course). A great, funny guy, but he never made much effort to stay in contact. He’s actually a Vice Principal.

I went over and greeted him, bringing him back over to the group since he had met Pitt before and I had mentioned Urban Sprawl a number of times. He bought us a round of drinks (and it was 2-4-1). With all this liquid flowing, Bottomless Pitt really started to feel it. And it was really starting to show. In fact, I don't think I've ever seen (or rather noticed) her that drunk.

. o O (Bottomless Pitt and Principal Skinner are in mighty close proximity to each other.)

Okay, so they were obviously interested in each other. I could cock block because I have issues letting go even though I've got someone else. Or I could let step aside while my good friend got some.

When Bottomless Pitt went to the bathroom, Principal Skinner asked where I stood with the whole situation. I gave him my blessing (after about 14 are-you-sures), and they started hardcore making out when Pitt came back. Urban Sprawl had left shortly before, and I was pretty sure I already knew how this story was going to end.

Did I mention that's not the first guy Bottomless Pitt and I have crossfired? Yeah. 

Check out an embarrassing moment involving the first guy we crossfired.  Click here. 

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