I steered clear of the French maid theme

SoHo Crush had been invited to a costume party on a Friday night, and he told me the theme was maids and butlers.  The drag queen in me wanted to get a French maid costume, but the I-don’t-have-the-time-or-money side of me went with slutty butler.  I went to a thrift shop for a black vest, a cheesy formalwear store for the fake bow tie, and finished the outfit off with a black mid-cut speedo.

SoHo Crush suggested that we grab a bottle of champagne on the way “so we don’t have to wait in line for the slow staff at the bar.”  . o O (So it’s that kinda house party!)  

A man with a list was at the door shuffled through papers to find SoHo Crush’s name, but it just so happened that our hostess (whom I had met at SoHo's Obama fundraiser… he was the one that suggested that SoHo must be in love) was outside with the smokers.  Of course when he came over, the guy was like, “Oh, yeah.  I was just about to tell them they could come in.”  Riiiight.

Apparently butlers and maids wear masks. Or the host told different people different themes.

Poke her face?

It turned out to be a large loft with a very cool hard-wood ramp that led to the elevated bedrooms.  “Look, the apartment’s wheelchair accessible… unless you’re drunk: there’s no railing!”  Turns out the guy that invited SoHo Crush (they used to hook up, of course) was the boyfriend of the owner of the loft. 

 

Out of nowhere, a handsome older white guy approached.  “I love your outfit, but I don’t believe we know each other.”  . o O (Nice smile… I wonder if he works out.) 

“I’m D. Kareem… Have you met SoHo?”

Sugar Daddy: “How do you do?” he said, averting his eyes from my torso as a brief gesture.

SoHo: “Yeah, we met.  I hosted the Obama fundraiser in the fall in SoHo…”

Sugar Daddy: “Oh? Oh, yes!  I remember!  I’m so sorry!”

SoHo: “Yeah, well I’ve shaved my head since then.”

Random woman in her 50s: “What a beautiful man!”

Me (blushing): “Well thank you.”

 

The four of us started to converse for about 5 minutes before Sugar Daddy wandered off, leaving us alone with his loquacious Real-Girl friend.  She mostly treated SoHo Crush as a worthy contemporary (since she works in real estate and he brought up the move) and me as a piece of pretty arm candy.  After about 15 minutes or so, she finally asked me what I do (she needed to confirm the box she had already put me in).  She must have expected me to s say something that didn’t require a college degree because she was visibly shocked when I named my profession.  Thank god for SoHo Crush: “Oh, D. Kareem, we’re both out of ice.  We should go get some more.  But it was lovely meeting you, and I have your card…”  It was obvious she knew she was being snubbed, but what could she do at that point?

 

We got more ice and moved to the other side of the party.  Keep in mind, we’re holding a bottle of champagne the whole time.  SoHo Crush was wearing a suit vest, slacks, and a dress shirt (maybe a tie?), and no one really reacted to him carrying the bottle.  But when I had the bottle, it was like I was number 14 on StuffWhitePeopleLike.com!  People were jumping out of trees to give me props on the bottle.  A random straight-appearing (European?) guy stuck out his cup, so I poured him a (small) glass.  Then he turned his cheek and pointed.  “A kiss?”  Huh? Fine.

Out of nowhere materialized the German guy that I thought was Duplex at Cabbage Boy’s party.  SoHo Crush has been fascinated with Berlin (he’s taking a class on it), so they gabbed it up for a good half hour before we decided to leave the party.  

While I was twirling my hair on the side, I saw the following, which made me exceedingly glad that I steered clear of the French maid theme.

Unfortunately, his high-waisted-lingerie-toting girlfriend jumped into the picture.

When we stepped out onto the street, there was a limo waiting.  I assumed it was waiting on one of the guests, and I jested, “Oh, look, SoHo dear, our ride’s waiting!”

“It sure is!  Excuse me!  You, are you taken?  We’re going to Marie’s Crisis!”

. o O (He’s wasted.  And with a to-go cup. Great.)

Did I mention singing showtunes in a speedo is so much more fun?  Yeah.

Click here to read about my N'awlins Mardi Gras trip.

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