On Saturday of Black Pride Weekend, I had gotten a text about a friend of a friend's house party from Bottomless Pitt, who had been in social exile. I figured I needed to see him for his alleged one night out.
The house party was kind of a mess, but we all migrated out to the awesome rooftop. Bottomless Pitt and I stayed until about 1 before we ditched for the Black Pride leather party at Rawhide. I'm not a fan of the bar after the incident during my last visit, but I really had to check out this event.
|image from nycblackpride.com|
When we arrived, we were immediately accosted by a shot boy in a harness and a loud, heavy-set queen (with a shirt on).
Heavy Queen: "Buy a shot!! Buy a shot! Buy a shot! Or gimme a dolla! Gimme a dolla!"
We couldn't stop laughing, but eventually Bottomless Pitt pulled it together enough to get us both a jello shot.
Pitt: "I have 2 ones or I have a 20 if you have change."
Shot Boy: "Hold on."
The shot boy turned his back to Bottomless Pitt and, without bending his knees, reached into his sock for a wad of bills.
Me: "Oh my god! He'd better be wearing a jock strap!"
Pitt: "He is."
Once Pitt got her change, the shot boy gave an encore show to put his money back into his sock, to which the Heavy Queen cackled: "Looks like you got bonus miles!"
As Pitt went to take her shot, the shot boy stopped her: "No, loosen it with your finger."
Pitt: "But I like to do it with my tongue."
Me: "Pitt, I think there's a reason she wants you to use your finger. Just go with it."
As soon as his finger made a loop around the edge of the tiny plastic cup, the shot boy took it in his mouth all the way to the knuckle. It took her plump lips at least 7 seconds to make it to the end of Pitt's finger.
After Pitt had (ahem) recovered from the Jello demo, we took a lean against the pool table to observe the local wildlife. An older white guy (in reasonable shape) literally crept across the bar, looking for any glimmer of interest from absolutely anyone. At one point, he slinked his way right by Pitt. As he wad passing, I pushed Pitt into the creepy guy’s arm. The guy saw this as a sign to post up next to Pitt and grab his waist. I was laughing too hard to see just how Pitt was able to get rid of dude so quickly.
Two minutes later, an older black guy came up to Pitt and without a word unbuttoned 2 buttons on her vest, adjusted her pecs, and gave a nod of approval. Did I mention Pitt wasn’t wearing a shirt under her vest? Yeah.
We ended the night at Barracuda, hanging with Scotty Rox and his friends by the DJ booth. I didn’t’ stay too long because I wanted to rest up for the beach on Sunday.
|image from a Cabbage Boy's friends'|
Black Pride in NYC used to be a series of events in Brooklyn that wrapped up on Sunday with an event at Riis Beach (in the Rockaways in Queens) with vendors and live performances (I saw SWV and Cece Peniston my first 2 years). This year, there was no official Sunday beach event, but the queens all still come out in early August for a day on the shore. I met up with Tighty Whitey and took the A train out to the Rockaways. Not the most direct of routes, but certainly fewer transfers and less crowded.
As usual, it was a sea of towels, umbrellas and tents. Men and women were everywhere, showing as much skin as possible (I've never seen so many pierced breasts in my life)!
Me: "Cabbage Boy is out here with his people, but let's do a little hoe-stroll while we look for him: check out the scene."
I started off on the most round-about route possible so that we could get a good view of all the boys. And of course, we strutted for about 50 feet before we bumped into Cabbage Boy's group. They had spread out a queen-sized sheet and had an umbrella, a cooler, and a box of Popeye's chicken (let my people go!). As I introduced everyone to Tighty Whitey, I noticed an unfamiliar face in the clique.
I thought the new guy was just skinny, but it wasn't until someone made a joke about him being 12 that I took a close look at him. He was uncomfortably young. Like convincing-as-a-tall-14-year-old young. He claimed to be 18 (and Cabbage Boy obviously believed him the way he was 'helping him adjust his shorts'), but he something about him screamed ‘early adolescence’ to me. At one point, Cabbage Boy insisted that we get a picture together, telling us repeatedly to move closer. They thought I was making a joke when I said, "I think this is illegal."
|so many websites one could reference...|
But the boys were amazing in every sense of the word. Gender roles were a thing of the past to the boys in see-thru shawls over g-strings and women in baggy denim shorts and fitted caps. Every time someone hot or scandalous would walk by, everyone would yell at Cabbage and me to snap a photo.
After a while, the boys started to repeat, the sand started to itch, and the tide crept in a little to far. Tighty Whitey and I took our leave of the boys, and TW left with no fewer than 2 numbers. We decided to take the more direct 2 train back to the city, and I got out in Chelsea.
I dropped by Gym Bar for a drink (lately I've been going to Gym more often than the gym). When I arrived, I was happy to see a guy who’s been flirting hardcore with me. It got slightly uncomfortable when a long-time friend with benefits (whom I didn’t know was back in town) walked in just after a newer hook up. When an ex showed up, it was time to go.
Did I mention that the new Trader Joe's in Chelsea is the best excuse out of a possibly explosive situation? Yeah.
Click here to check out the last time I went to NYC Black Pride at Riis Beach.
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