So, if you’ll remember the night before, I had crashed at a guy’s place after leaving my keys at my office. The guy had said something about waking up at 10, but I definitely didn’t leave his place until about 1. TTT texted me to see if I was at the Pier. I happened to be walking in front of his apartment building, so I called him. His voice told me he was a good hour from being ready to leave his apartment.
I filled him in on the story from the previous night.
TTT: “So are you on the way to the Pier?”
Me: “Hell no! You think I'm gonna wear the skinny jeans tucked into the cowboy boots I wore last night! I’m going home to change.”
TTT: “But by the time you get back downtown from your place, it’ll be tomorrow! Hello? Hello?...”
I got to the Pier a bit after 3, and of course every Mary, smooth and hairy, was out. It was just over 70 degrees, so it was warm in the sunlight between buildings. But on the water, the breeze was downright chilly.
TTT (looking at Urban Sprawl asleep facedown in his underwear): “I guess that’s what happens when you turn 30.”
Me: “Oh leave her alone. She just needed to rest her eyes.”
MicHELLe: “Oh my god! Why do old people always say that! Body parts don’t get individual rest! ‘Oh, my arm is resting!’ [flailing a lifeless right arm]”
Around 6, we were over it and went to Pieces for happy hour and Tue Thai for dinner. Most everyone dropped off except for MicHELLe, Bottomless Pitt and me. The three of us were all planning to go to The Black Party together. Keep in mind, I was still adjusting to Eastern Daylight Savings Time (which I didn't know happened til I was late for work on Wednesday). But I had mentally prepared for the wildness. And then in the middle of the week, I found out I was too old to get the discount (look down, The Saint at Large)! I certainly wasn't psyched enough to pay full price for a ticket, and when I dropped out, MicHELLe and Bottomless Pitt both lost interest. But that wasn’t going to stop us from going to ASFKAB and Bologna’s Black Party pre-game (after a stop at Gym Bar).
We picked up a bottle and made our way up to Hell’s Kitchen. When we got there, ASFKAB answered the door dressed more like a jock with 70s-porn facial hair than a leather pup. The party was packed, and quite a few of the attendants were dressed for the party.
I went up stairs, to Bologna’s room, and she was jumping on her bed in a jock strap and tube socks.
Bottomless Pitt (as Bologna bent down to her computer to change the song): “Oh my god! Bologna, you have a really hairy ass! …Not that that’s a bad thing: it’s just unexpected since you don’t really have hair anywhere else!”
One really hot guy in particular came up, and I noticed his harness looked a bit plain. In fact, it reminded me of TTT’s harness from the year before. No snaps to adjust, just a couple of bolts to hold the leather in place around the ring.
Me: “Can I see the back of your harness?”
Him: “Sure, yeah.”
Me: “It’s backwards. Hold on… Yup. Backward and inside out.”
Him: “Oh, god, are you serious? I borrowed this from a friend, so I wasn’t sure.”
Me: “Here, let me touch your hot, hairy torso as much as possible in the next 30 seconds help you with that.”
The party mostly cleared out in the by 12:30, and MicHELLe had been talking up a house party around the corner. I figured a gay boy hosting in Hell’s Kitchen that I didn’t really know: it should be a guaranteed good time, right?
Bottomless Pitt as we’re climbing the stairs (what’s up with HK and walk-up buildings!): “I hear a lot of girls here.”
I heard them, too. From two floors below.
. o O (I feel like this isn’t the first estrogen-heavy party she's led me to. Another MicHELLe MisTAKE.)
We actually ended up having a good time there. The girls and host were fun, and we ended up doing a few dances, including “Single Ladies” (I sat that one out) and “Bad Romance” (Bottomless Pitt did the floor part on the host’s futon). After about an hour there, I entertained Posh for a short period before heading home. Did I mention that I would have much rather have been crawling into bed and making Grrber stir? Yeah.
Click here to check out when I actually went to The Black Party last year.
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