He didn’t speak much English (Labor Day Weekend on Fire Island: Saturday... Part I)

Morehead and I started our Saturday in Cherry Grove with a leisurely (read: shirtless) into town to get some things for the kitchen: eggs, almond milk for protein shakes (of course I brought protein shakes), mixers juice. The rest of the guys had gone out for breakfast, but Morehead and I saved a bit of money cooking for ourselves. A note to Morehead: there’s a “test” button on every smoke detector; it’s a lot more efficient than cooking eggs on the maximum stove setting.

About an hour later, Gentle Dom said that he was going into town for sunglasses. We had nothing better to do, so we walked along with him and the Blonde Twunk. I just had on some sweat pants and boots, and by that time, the porch at Floyd’s, a restaurant in town along the boardwalk, was much more packed than when we walked by before. If I’d’ve known we were going to have a drooling, panting audience, I’d’ve choreographed a short routine and brought a hat for tips!

The boys were all about going to the beach, but declined when I saw weather.com’s prediction was WINDY for the day. I opted for a 90-minute nap before changing into some shorts and a cut-away polo, carrying a speedo to change into for the Grindr pool party in the Pines.

After sitting in disrepair for longer than I’ve in NYC, the pool deck and gym have finally been renovated and re-opened. This was the first time I’d really gotten to see it, and I found it quite lovely. What wasn’t so lovely was the $10 well drink I paid for. It was strong and kinda big. And I wanna say their well is Absolut. But was $10. I really should have just waited for the cocktail waiter carrying around the trays of free drinks (don’t think I didn’t grab one later).

I posted up by the pool for a while, and nobody really talked to me. Like at all. Not even on Grindr (not that I could sign on since there was no wireless and AT&T’s signal is a joke on Fire Island). But I was pretty content to sip my drink and watch the one boy that was splashing around in the pool.

Later in the afternoon, I heard the DJ put on Vanity 6’s “Nasty Girl.” I love that song, so when I heard live vocals on top of it, I spun on my Timberland heel to see who was holding the mic. It turned out to be a black woman with blonde dreds who was wearing fabulous sneaker-like heels (which brought her to a staggering 5'4") and her own picture on her tshirt. And the woman could sang!

I was still recovering from her performance when I saw someone moving towards me as if I weren’t invisible in the Pines. It took me a second to realize that it was Grrber, whom I hadn’t seen in about a month. We were supposed to be doing Fire Island a couple of weekends before, but I ended up staying in the city because there was some confusion over confirming of plans. Or something…

Anyway, Grrber and I greeted, and he brought me over to join his friends on the deck chairs. They may or may not have all been totally wasted. A few of us were standing by the pool, and a friend came up and hugged him. The friend was a bit too giggly not to be up to some mischief. I jumped to the other side of a deck chair right before I heard, “Do you have your phone on you?” The two bears splashed into the water giggling like teenaged girls.

After a while, we went back to the house for cocktails. Grrber announced that he needed a nap, and I figured I may as well blow him join him. When we woke up, the drunkest of his friends, who could barely walk by that point, had grilled some of the best marinated chicken breasts I’d ever had! After dinner, they kinda seemed like they were done for the night, so I ditched for the Grove.

On my way through the Meatrack (the stretch of woods behind the beach between the Pines and Cherry Grove), I ended up walking with a guy from Central America. A very cute guy. He didn’t speak much English (which made him even sexier), but we switched back and forth between English and what I could remember of my high school Spanish classes. I offered for him to come have a drink at our house, but as soon as we got to the door, he thanked me and went along his way. Damnit.

I was disappointed, but I had bigger fish to fry. Namely Daniel Nardicio’s underwear party at the Ice Palace. It was a $10 cover, but it was only $5 if you were in a jock strap. I was willing to pay the $5 ass-coverage fee. Did I mention that Morehead had packed exclusively jockstraps for the weekend, claiming that he had no idea about the discount? Yeah.

Click here to check out Part II.

Click here to check out when I did Jones Beach and Fire Island in the same day.

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