TTT sent an email asking if anyone wanted to go to an open bar roof-deck party at some hotel on a Tuesday night. Some guy’s birthday, and, according to TTT, “this is a classy one.” He had responded plus 3. I was so there.I ran home to change into something cute and headed to the R/W 8th st stop, which TTT had suggested as a meeting place. Once TTT and Don Juan from San Juan arrived, we started walking uptown.
Don Juan: “Wow, we’re really near Union Square.”
TTT: “Yeah, who knew.”
Me: “Why didn’t you just tell us to meet there.”
TTT: “Well, the directions said that 8th st was the closest stop.”
Don Juan: “TTT, where is this place.”
TTT: “Ummmmm…“
Me: “Wow.”
Don Juan: “Let me call my boss. She just had a bachelorette party there.” After he hangs up. “It’s on Bowery and 5th.”
TTT: “5th avenue or 5th street?”
Me: “Doesn’t Bowery run North/South? I’m pretty sure it’s 5th st.”
2 iPhones and a Blackberry later, we arrived to the line to get to the elevators. When we got to the front, TTT was talking to the doorman, and I heard, “Nope, just you. Not your friends.”
I’m not sure what TTT did. A phone call was made, and within two minutes we were personally escorted to the elevator by a woman with a headset. Of course, another bouncer singled me out, trying to stop me, but I briefly mentioned that I was “with her”, pointing and backing into the crowded elevator.
The following happened throughout the course of the party:
-We had more than 3 drinks
-Paris Hilton was allegedly in attendance.
-Richie Rich (of Heatherette) was actually in attendance
-TTT wandered off to find dick conversation
-TTT changed his mind about a guy mid-conversation and passed him off to me (by wandering away from our convo).
-I got the number of the supposed owner of a restaurant in the hotel who urged me to call him for parties and such (while he was rather successfully hitting on a girl).
-Said restaurant owner insisted I take shots with him.
And before I left, I got the following pictures of Petey the Pig.
She's an equal opportunity pig: she pinched my nipple, too.
Did I mention TTT passed out on the train and almost missed her stop?
Yeah.
Thursday was some open bar at some straight club. It was cute and all, but it’s the little differences between straight bars and gay bars that bother me. For example: the bouncer's job should be to check my ID and say “ok” or “Have a good time.” There’s no need for “What party are you here for,” if there’s only one party at the venue, there’s no cover, and there aren’t promoters who need credit for it. Rude!
Anyway, I gulped down 4 drinks there before a bunch of us peaced out for DR!P (which used to be on Mondays but has now moved to Wednesdays).
We got there a bit after midnight and had to stand in line (more straight club shit!... except this is at a hotel). Once we got in, we had to stand in line for the bathroom to change! “Why don’t we all go in the bathroom and change at the same time so we don’t have to wait!”
. o O (I would have suggested that, but y’all would have called me a perv!)
So we finally got in the bathroom (all 7 or 8 of us), and as were changing, Urban Sprawl pulled out a mini bottle of vodka. “Oh wow, Sprawl. Where are you gonna put it when you’re in your speedo? Or are you going to drink it now? No? Well, shit, let me have it then!”
Geronimo had brought a Real Girl along (who was changing with us), and she really got into the spirit of the party, wearing multi-colored feathered headdress (in the stereotypical Native-American style). Not without concerns, however: “I’m kinda worried: I didn’t see anyone else dressed in a costume!”
“Did you see the pool? You’ll be just fine, hun. There are plenty of people more dressed up than you are.”
See, I told you.
I spent most of the rest of the night staring at and taking pictures of guys asses fashionable swimwear.
Hol' up! Who invited her!
Urban Sprawl came up to me out of the pool. “I need you to hold my coat check ticket.”
When I tell you the ticket was wet, I mean this shit was soaked through!
“Um, maybe you should have thought about that before you got in the water, dude. A) It’s already falling apart. B) I’m dry!”
“FINE! Don’t hold it, then! I made you in this city, and I can destroy you!” he screeched, turning on his heel (still verbalizing the situation [drunken gesticulations included]) and hopping down into the pool.
. o O (Did she just threaten to “destroy” me? Drama queen!)
He must have forgotten that there was a sort of bench along the side of the pool (it's like a step where it's only 2 feet deep before you step down to the bottom of the pool) because he took another step and made a perfect arc with his head from standing upright to smacking the water’s surface. Luckily, there were no people in front of him.
Then this happened.
Filet-Ho-Fish did not approve.
Check it the video footage (you see everything he has to offer) on DudeVu (NSFW). Click here.
As I was getting ready to leave, I took one more walk by the pool and saw all these people gathering around and taking pictures of this older guy.
I was really and truly confused, but when I saw a random run up and swat his crotch and run away giggling, I died!
Full. On. Boner.
Did I mention that this was definitely worth almost falling asleep at work on Thursday? Yeah.
Check out the first time I went to DR!P. Click here.
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