stretch of woods known as the Meatrack (Fire Island 4th of July conclusion)

Click here to read the first part of my Fire Island 4th of July adventure.

I bade the Long Island Gays adieu and walked down the block to the Architect's house. We really haven't seen each other much over the past couple of years, so we caught up in the lounge upstairs (not like that, perv) while his housemates busied themselves prepping dinner. And after a delicious and much-needed meal (with a delicious and much-not-needed drink and glass of wine), I stumbled my way across the Pines, through the brothel stretch of woods known as the Meatrack (in the dark!!) and to Cherry Grove. Two miles in total. I would say this was where the night started to get patchy, but that started to happen before nightfall.

My first stop was at Cherry’s (I think), which was pretty low-key. I ended up running into 5-foot 8x6, who, to this very day, is still in awe of his pseudonym. I talked with him and his boyfriend for god knows how long before the alarm I had set for the 2am ferry (the last one from Cherry Grove) went off. I saw it come in. I saw drunk queens running towards it. And I chose my sense of adventure over practicality. Plus the Architect said I could crash at his house if I needed to.

After watching the last chance of returning to my bed sail away, I stumbled across to the Ice Palace. I got some water there (thankfully) and undoubtedly screamed out some pop tunes before taking the mile-and-a-half walk through the Meatrack to the Pines around what must have been about 4:30. The only thing that kept me going was the fact that I could see the sandy trails in the dark (the woodsy trails were a different story) and that I knew that the sound of the waves crashing had to be coming from the south.

Back in the Pines, the Pavilion was still open. They were playing house music, which I hate, but there was no cover. It was still pretty busy. I decided that my best chance at finding an 'adventure' was to blend in as much as possible (you can tell I was wasted). I took off my shirt and started doing that same tired two-step that the drugged up queens have been doing for decades, trying not to show too strong a sense of rhythm or coordination. A tall, muscular white guy in shades appeared near me. He seemed to be trying to check me out, but I couldn’t really tell. Eventually I got tired of playing Is He into Me and two-stepped in his direction with a once-over and a smile. He gladly wrapped an arm around my waist, and within minutes we were making out.

adventure: commence.

Turns out he wasn’t staying in the Pines. Or the Grove. He was staying in some straight town in Fire Island that the water taxi apparently serviced. I think it was around 6:30 when we left the Pavilion. Someone we asked said service started around 8. When I googled it on my phone, the website said 9. We took a seat on The Blue Whale's patio and alternated between talking and feeling each other up. As the sun started to come up, passers-by went from cruising to walking their dogs and jogging. Once the sun got bright, we moved to a recessed part of the dock between buildings where I passed out for a bit.

The first ferry came. A freight boat came. The police boats came twice. The water taxi didn’t actually arrive until around 9:30 (my companion had already been hung up on by the water taxi info hotline operator). The captain told us he had to go to Water Island (really fucking far in the wrong direction) and back to the Pines. Next, we stopped at Ocean Park, which would have been nice enough... except the women that got on with us asked to go to Ocean Beach.

My adventure warned me about 100 meters from the house that 12 people staying there (most of whom he worked with), and that we’d be saying hi while they were having brunch before retiring to his room. It was surprisingly not-awkward (which could be a good or bad thing). It just so happened that his room was right next to a co-workers. With sliding almost-French doors separating them. Sliding almost-French doors aren’t soundproof.

Did I mention that if Apple had invented a water-proof iPhone, it would have captured the hottest scene since Bottomless Pitt’s shower debut? Did I mention that (without so much as a nap afterwards), he invited me in their van back to LaGuardia Airport? And that he insisted on my taking cab fare to get home?

Did I also mention that Grrber was in the Pines that whole weekend and that neither of us had any idea the other was there (I thought he was gonna be working in the Hamptons... oops)? Yeah.

Click here to check out the last time I went out to Fire Island.