The bear pool party was huge (The New F Word and Drenched at Grace Hotel)

The New F Word party was about to start its second week at Rebel, so we decided to bless the party with our presence. After pregaming at Urban Sprawl’s place, we hopped on the train, hoping to make it in before midnight. Too bad there was a line. Did I mention it was cold outside?

As we approached the front of the line, Miss Joey Israel walked up to the door.

Urban Sprawl: “Hey, Joey.”

Joey: “Hey, babe! You guys going in?”

Me: “Of course! How could we not!”

Joey: “Cool, how many are with you?”

Urban Sprawl: “5.”

Within 2 minutes, we were shedding our outer layers to disco music. I love disco!

Me: “Hey, are you guys still doing the $3 Stoli special.”

Johnny Ohio [you know, the one with Ohio tattooed on his ass]: “For the next 2 minutes.”

Me: “Well, I’m right on toooime! Lemme get 2 screwdrivers, please… Hey, where’s your favorite DJ?”

Johnny O: “Uh, which one?”

Me: “The one you’re engaged to.”

Johnny O: “Oh, he’s downstairs.”

The boys got tired of disco (WTF!), so we headed down to hear Cazwell spin. On the main dancefloor (there were at least 4 in this place), go-go Matthew Camp was on stage dancing while video of him dancing in similar attire was projected behind and on either side of him. On the other side of the dancefloor, a tall, ripped go-go was teasing the audience with his… okay, fuck being clever: the guy had a huge dick.

Me: “Holy fuck! He pulled it out!”

Med School Mess: “Huh?”

Me: “The fucking go-go! Look!”

MSM (to the tune of “We Are Family"): “TSWB!”

Me: “Oh my god! Did that drag queen just—“

MSM: “Yes she did, girl. Yes she did.”

Around almost 3 AM, we were on our way out. I had no food in my fridge (or protein powder in the cabinet), so I suggested a diner. I was getting my coat, and all of a sudden a TSWB with an accent was in my arms and making out with me. Huh? The tongue-n-run isn’t usually my style, but something told me to get my ass back to WaHi that night.

The next day, I met up with Grrber after the gym. I had a cocktail and worked on the blog while he took a disco nap. I was taking him out to a night among his own people: Drenched (the bear pool party). I was pretty tipsy when he made a to-go drink in a Figi bottle and handed it to me. I was surprised when he made another one for himself. I was drunk when the homeless man came on the train and sang a quivering cover of "Blowin' in the Wind." At that point, I was in tears, avoiding eye contact with alleged bum (who could somehow manage to tune his guitar).

The bear pool party was huge. And I don’t mean that in a symbolic frat boy sort of way. I'm talking head count and mass, and not not at all the muscle-bear eye candy I was hoping for. They were full on not-even-tautly-fat bears. And they were packed into that goddamn pool! I mean, the ratio of bears to DR!P patrons may have been 2:3. But I’m glad to see them feeling liberated in their environment. Free to roam and splash around with other bears! It was like a wildlife reserve!

Grrber: “I love these bear parties! They don’t even look at me because they’re like, ‘She’s too thin!’” He was in such a good mood that he got us a round of over-priced drinks at the bar!

As I was getting dressed (while Grrber went for jeans and a tank top, I did the full speedo-and-flip-flops look) I got a text that everyone was at Vlada. 5 minutes later, another text said Posh.

Me: “Are you for-real at Posh, or gay-style at Posh?"

MicHELLe: "Huh?"

Me: "I mean, when you say you're at Posh, does that translate to you're finishing-your-drinks-and-planning-to-go at Posh?”

MicHELLe: “We’re putting on our coats right now! We’ll see you in two minutes!”

Me: “I’m setting my alarm.”

Yeah, I deal with drunk gays under 40 way too much. Trust no one (even the 40 year old mark isn’t an absolute).

Did I mention Grrber got another round of drinks at Posh? Yeah.

Click here to check out the (much slimmer) DR!P pool party.

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Photo borrowed from DexStar G Simms Facebook album.