what helps spilled alcohol dry most quickly?

I was so late to the NYC Pride parade! An hour and a half wait in Sayville got tacked on to the already laboriously long commute back from Fire Island. After a hassle with my building security to get into my office to drop my stuff off (I’d forgotten my ID on my every-day bag and taken my beach bag), I finally made it to the parade around 3:30. Then there was another 40 minutes of wandering around and trying to figure out how to cross streets (ridiculous crowds and police blockades) before I met up with MicHELLe, TTT, and Don Juan from San Juan across the street from Pieces.

Here’s a sampling of what we saw:

MicHELLe recognized this pierced bear from Folsom Street East before I did.

It was so touching to see kids in the parade! 

I wasn't nearly so educated growing up in South Carolina.

And how could I forget Club Atlantis’s float. Maybe it’s time for me to spend a night in Queens.

After the parade, I met up with SoHo Crush and his friends for a quick drink at Julius’ (huh?) while the boys went to Maracas. SoHo and his boys tried to drag me to the Cubby Hole to make fun of their softball teammate (they left the poor boy staggeringly drunk and in the same bar as his ex of less than a year ago who is now married!), but I opted for Maracas instead. And it’s a good thing, too.

I found the boys at the bar, and close to them was a group of young black guys and an older white guy (who was obviously fucking or trying to fuck any/all of them). In the hour I was there, TTT had made out with two of the black guys, one of whom MicHELLe had been eyeing (it’s rare that MicHELLe goes after a black guy). When TTT went in for the (second) kill, MicHELLe turns exasperated to the white guy and says, “Oh my god, will you please make out with me right now!”

Happy Pride indeed.

We left (very) soon thereafter, and as we were walking down Greenwich Ave, MicHELLe spotted a set of cow-print suitcases outside of a shop. You may not know this, but MicHELLe is a major bagnista. Some guys do shoes. Some guys do tight tshirts with witty sayings. MicHELLe does (mom) bags. So she sees these suitcases and strusts over to grab the largest one and drag it like she’s right on time for her flight to Tahiti with her husband. What she didn’t see was that the set of bags was chained together. She pulled the big one about 6 inches before the other two bags started to fall. She panicked and ran!

I’m in tears as I write this on the train on the way to work. People are staring. Anyway, I almost hit the floor when the shop keeper came out and gave us everything but the angry shaking fist (we were halfway down the block by then).

The next stop was XES for 2-4-1. We met up with the rest of the crew (who was somewhere around 6-4-3) before peacing out for Greenhouse’s open bar. Hey, if we’re gonna be messy, we’re not gonna spend much money doing it!

MicHELLe picked up a stray furry in training along the way.

Has she had her shots?

Speaking of messy, as soon as we jumped on the 1 train, Urban Sprawl pulled out her flask. She opened it, turned it up, and missed her mouth.

Jim. Beam. Everywhere. And what helps spilled alcohol dry most quickly? Pole dancing.

The flask was confiscated. It was quite a ride to Greenhouse.

Word must have gotten out about this Greenhouse party because when we showed up around 10:15, there was a line (I’ve never waited in line for this party). And the bar was predictably crowded when we got downstairs (I figured more people would be upstairs anyway).

As usual, there was a number of costumed club kids.

As I weeded through the crowd after the open bar, I saw a face that looked immediately familiar. Tall, slim, black guy with a hat to the side… well, I just described all of Harlem, but after about a second, I realized it was Adam Benjamin Irby, an acclaimed blogger and web designer who was part of my motivation to start my blog.

“I sometimes comment as ‘The Blackout Blog’!” Perhaps he didn’t remember that moniker from his comments, but if he didn’t, he sure as hell played like he did! It was so great to meet him face-to-face because we’re from pretty different backgrounds, but I had so many moments where I was reading his writings thinking the same thing or seeing myself crack the same one-liner or 90s R&B reference.

< /groupie moment >

Everybody was nice and hammered, and we danced our asses off for the next half hour or so until Bottomless Pitt stormed out of the club.

I texted after her: Where are you going?

Pitt: Barracuda?

Me: Chi Chi’s is 2-4-1 all night.

Me: You really do need to stop drinking by yourself. Other people like drinking with you… sometimes…

Pitt: Chi Chi’s it is… Headed there now babe lol

Me: Stumbling to the train now.

Me: Chi Chi’s if you’re man enough.

Me: Oops, that was for MicHELLe. Crossing 7^th now.

Pitt: Security won’t let me up and I’m trying not to get arrested.

Me: Where?

Me: At Chi Chi’s?

Pitt: Ok, I’m close to xhi xhis

Me: Are you there. Crazy!

Me: ??

Pitt: I can’t cross Houston!! [For reference, Houston is no where near Chi Chi’s. I eventually figured out he meant Hudson.]

Me: XES!

So after we established that we were going to XES, I texted Kunta Kente who was crashing with his boyfriend at a friend's place in the Village. In fact, where they were staying was a block away from where I was at that moment, so I went to go urinate pick them up. Text. Another text. Call. Voicemail. Another call. Another text. I was literally dancing by the time they came waltzing down the stairs. 

“Oh, I don’t have my phone on me... oops!”

The walked me back up so I could pee (lines were CRAZY for bathrooms all day!), and then came the (not-so-much) shocker: “Well, how far is this place. We probably shouldn’t be out for more than an hour or so.”

. o O (You mean to tell me this is your first time in NYC in 2 years, and you’re imposing a curfew?!)

“It’s like 20 blocks away in Chelsea.”

“I don’t know. We probably shouldn’t leave the neighborhood.”

“That’s like a $5 cab ride from here! If that!”

“Yeah, I might need to think about that.”

“Well, look: it’s called XES. 24^th between 6^th and 7^th. Text me if you’re coming, okay?”

“Okay.”

As much as I wanted to hang, Pride only comes once a year! And Bottomless Pitt was waiting on me.

Then my phone died.

By some chance, I caught up with Bottomless Pitt walking up 7^th avenue, and we continued our quest to XES. From what I remember, Peppermint was there, but there was no karaoke. I do remember pop music. And I remember running into a cute guy who could sing who had a tall friend.

“I live at 125^th, but I can’t host—“

“That’s cool. I live right above you.”

“Where?”

“Washington Heights. We can take the A or the 1.”

“I really want to; believe me. But I don’t like to go home with a guy on the first night…”

That’s real nice, hun. That’s. Real. Nice.

Did I mention that as he and I walked west, Bottomless Pitt and his tall friend walked east? *High fives Bottomless Pitt* Yeah!

Click here to check out my (very wet) NYC Pride '08 experience.

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