I suggested a walk along the beach. Sort of. (Labor Day Weekend on Fire Island: Saturday... Part II)

Click here to read Part I

I entered our orange palace, grabbed a drink and started to get ready for Daniel Nardicio’s underwear party at Cherry Grove’s Ice Palace.

Gentle Dom: “What are you doing?”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Gentle Dom: “You’re wearing clothes.”

Me: “Yes. I realize this.”

GD: “It’s like 2 feet away.”

Me: “It’s a good 300 meters away, there are bugs out, and I’d just prefer to wear clothes. But thanks for the offer.”

. o O (Did she really try pull a these-are-not-the-droids-you’re-looking-for on me? Really?!)

As expected, the underwear party was insanity. The boys mostly stayed on the dance floor, but I really had to check out the back room. I did my usual voyeuristic tour though the darkness, and there was plenty to see! The guy with the suspenders on his jock strap made me a bit sad: no one with that nice of an ass should just be passed around like a that (not unlike a coffee machine in an office).

There was more dancing before a second trip to the dark room. I was standing there watching, and a nicely stubbled white guy came up and indicated that he’d like to talk to me. I told him that I was only eavesdropping and not so much looking for a direct lecture, but he insisted that I’d like what he had to say. He seemed to be pretty smart, so I said fine and told him I’d listen to what he had to say.

image from naastoastmasters.com

I swear, this man had the most melodious, comforting voice. I was hanging on his every word! A couple of minutes in, a Middle Eastern guy with longish hair wanted to join the lecture. The two actually took turns talking, almost like a fugue, and their counterpoint made me wonder if they had worked together before.

After about 10 minutes, the white guy had said what he needed to say and walked away, the Middle Eastern guy following suit soon thereafter. I wondered if they were going to have their own conversation later as I prepared to join the others back on the dance floor.

The party had started to clear out a bit when I entered the main bar area. I ended up running into the cute Latino from the Meatrack, who was dancing with his friend. His friend was cute, spoke English, and had a nice body on him. He wasted no time letting me know that he was into me.

image from fortunecookiechronicals.com

After a few songs, I asked him back to our place for a drink. On the way back, it came out that he and his friends were only coming out for the day, but they had missed the last ferry and were stuck until about 8:30am. I would have gladly let him sleep over on a couch, but I’ve seen people in the Pines get ridiculously touchy about that sort of thing. I really didn’t know these people too well, so I figured it was best to err on the side of caution.

Of course, when I walked in with this guy, half the house was in the den to greet us (thank god he was cute). I made us a couple of drinks, and we went into the dining room. I don’t think we made it halfway through the drinks before he insisted on lecturing me, much like the two guys from earlier in the night. I loved his accent, but I figured it might get a bit loud to stay in the house. So I suggested a walk along the beach. Sort of.

We ended up wandering through the trails of the Meatrack playing really fun word games. We were getting eating alive by mosquitoes, but we didn’t much care at that point. Then an older guy found us and tried to throw clues into our word games. I figured if I just let him stand there and talk to himself, it couldn’t hurt. After about 20 seconds, though, I had to let him know he was messing up my concentration.

Believe it or not, I ran out of words before he did. That’s when we realized that we weren’t exactly sure of the way we had come through the Meatrack. On my previous trip to Fire Island, I’d navigated from the sound of the water from the ocean, but this trip, I'd definitely heard waves coming from the bay side. But somehow, this cute little Latino guided us out of the woods on the right side. Really, if it weren't for him, I would have surely ended up in the Pines. I couldn't even show him the kindness of a place to sleep, but he took it in stride.

Did I mention that when I went upstairs, the Persian Princess was nowhere to be found (i.e., I had the bed to myself)? Yeah.

There's still Sunday and Monday left. Til then, click here to check out this post from Memorial Day at the Westbury Manor.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

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.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

Morehead and his not-dom had disappeared (Labor Day Weekend on Fire Island: Friday)

Morehead recently moved to Brooklyn, and one of his new roommates is friends with the owner of the House of Orange in Cherry Grove. The very same orange house that Soho Crush rented last summer. My trip to Montreal fell through, and Morehead asked me if I wanted to get in on Labor Day Weekend with them on Fire Island.

"Fuck it. Why not!"

Well, because hurricane Earl, it was drama trying to get out here. Morehead and I went back and forth texting, and when I went to bed on Thursday night, the plan was for them to drive to the ferry early on Saturday. I had no interest in losing sleep to hang out all day with people I didn't know, so I planned to take the train out in time for happy hour on Sat.

For those of you not familiar with Fire Island, it's only accessible by ferry. From the City, you take the LIRR (commuter train), then a shuttle van, then a ferry. The whole thing usually takes about 2.5 hours.

I went to work on Friday anticipating a short day because of the holiday. I was going to work out afterwards, have a nap, and go out in the city. Why did I get this text from Morehead?!

Meanwhile, they live really deep in Bushwick. Like, can't-even-fake-like-it's-East-Williamsburg Bushwick. There was no way I was finishing work, running home to pack, and catching them by 4 to make that 5:30 ferry! But Morehead was having trouble getting our of work, too, so we agreed to meet on the 6:27 LIRR to catch the 8:30 ferry.

When we got off the LIRR, my heart stopped. There were no mini-busses waiting to take us to the ferry! Did the ferries get cancelled after all?! Fuck!

image from insanemom.net

Me: "Wait a minute... I don't think this is Sayville."

Random woman: "Sayville was the next stop."

Well, it was nothing that a $12 cab ride wouldn't fix, and we got there before the folks on the LIRR. When we walked up, nobody was in the ticket booth. Then Morehead got a text from a roomie: Heard the 8:30 ferry got cancelled. I was too heated. Especially when Morehead walked over to the information window and found out that the ferry was indeed running as scheduled! However, they were combining the Pines and Cherry Grove ferries into one and making 2 stops. We finally got to our house around 9:20. And for all that fuss about Earl, I never once felt the need to dig my umbrella out of my bag.

Oh, and the friday-night Daniel Nardicio underwear party that I was so hyped about? Postponed til Saturday.

The house was a motley crew indeed. We had a couple of young'ns (one was 18 and the very definition of a tall twink), a few guys in their 20s and Morehead's Log Cabin Republican roommate who is in his 40s. And a weiner dog.

At one point when we were in the den a random, hot otter came up to our screen door.

Him: "Oh, sorry! I think I have the wrong house."

Me; "Hey, it's cool! Come have a drink... We'll take our shirts off... Aaaaand he's gone."

Of course, we started on the drinks right away. And of course the first guy I started to check out ended up being the object of Morehead's pursuit. The situation was hilarious because this guy was basically giving him orders like a total dom, but almost like suggestions.

Gentle Dom: "Okay, I think you should go stand in the corner now. Come on, go stand in the corner. Okay, now count 60 seconds. Out loud, please..."

I went upstairs to get ready for the other underwear party in the Pines. When I came back down, the hot otter from before was sitting on out couch. My eye was immediately drawn to him, and I was so caught up in making sure I introduced myself that I totally missed Daniel Nardicio sitting next to him!

Nardicio "Hey, I remember you from the Sea Tea party I had. Good to see you again."

image from tvtropes.com

We all talked for a while before they left, and a few of the other boys started to get ready to head to the Pines. One of the younger boys was turning out to be a lot of look, and Blonde Twunk and Assyrian Princess weren't trying to deal with her. Assyrian Princess literally pushed Blonde Twunk and me out the back door while he sent the kid upstairs to get ready. As soon as the kid was out of earshot, Assyrian Princess ran out to meet us.

Did I mention that it'd been about an hour since Morehead and his not-dom had disappeared into the room the not-dom was sharing with the Assyrian Princess? Did I also mention that Assyrian Princess had to sneak in at least twice to get stuff from her bag and took at least 3 tries to close the door? Yeah.

We trekked through the Meatrack, but we had to detour to the beach towards the end because it a guy we ran into who was backtracking told us there was bad flooding. When we finally got to the Pines, the underwear party was quite sparse.

image from democraticunderground.com

It started to get nicely populated, but we ditched for the party at Sip n Twirl with more boys and more fun music. After about a half hour there, Blonde Twunk and I looked up to find the Assyrian Prince waving from the DJ booth.

A cute Asian guy started talking to us and ended up inviting Blonde Twunk and I back to his house with a clump of other boys (2 of whom I know from the city, but I didn't know they knew each other) for champagne and a dip in the hot tub.

"Oh, guys, no fabric in the hot tub. It clogs the filter."

Apparently that line is well known among the upper-class gays: I thought it was just a joke among the Architect's ski buddies!

Anyway, I figured everyone just needed a nudge, so I stripped down and got in. Everyone else sat on the edge and just put their feet in. There was much rolling of eyes, but to be fair, the water was lukewarm.

Blonde Twunk followed the cute Asian guy into the house. Everyone else was staying in the Pines, so if he was out for the night, I'd have to walk back through the Meatrack by myself. Damnit.

By the time I'd finished not quite all of my champagne, the rest of the boys were dressing to leave. By the time I was putting on my shoes, Blonde Twunk emerged from the lower level of the house. I was beyond elated not to have to make the walk alone.

Even better: when I got back to my room, no one was there.

. o O (NAKED SLEEPY TIME! WOO!)

Did I mention I woke up the next day pitching a tent next to Assyrian Prince? Yeah.

Click here to check out my first night in the House of Orange last summer.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

a night of pursuit and missed sleep (gay live band karaoke doing my part to improve French-American diplomacy)

Disclaimer: this one gets a little, um, graphic. So if you're offended by details, you should probably skip this post and click here.

On a Tuesday, I ignored a text from the Protogé. It was his last night before leaving the City for (another) vacation, so I figured he'd want to spend it with his friends (read: there was no chance of getting him in bed). I'd made plans to meet up with MicHELLe (been a while since you've seen that name) for live band karaoke, and I arrived late to find her sitting at the bar chatting up an older white guy who turned out to be a funny commercial pilot.

image from paisleymuffin.blogspot.com

After buying us a round of drinks, the pilot took off. Not long after, MicHELLe and I were approached by a tall black guy who turned out to be the karaoke host. He chatted us up a bit and encouraged us to sign up, saying that people usually need someone to break the ice and go first. Of course, I was up for the challenge.

"Bad Romance." By halfway through the bridge, I was really regretting going out on Sunday night. Next, MicHELLe sang "Ain't No Mountain High Enough." You know that key change after the bridge? She totally forgot about it til it happened, and her "oh shit" face was priceless! After a few other people sang, we butchered Patti LeBelle's "Lady Marmalade. We definitely showed our age by throwing in not-so-subtle references to the Xtina Aguilera version.

When the band wrapped up around 12:35, MicHELLe headed home. And who should walk in: the Protogé. Of course. We made touchy-feely small talk, but I could tell he was focused on his friends. He wandered off, and I started making eye contact with an older white guy. He seemed to be hanging out with a bunch of Australians, but it turned out he was actually French. Aceent and all.

image from schemamag.ca

Smoking and all.

Flirt, flirt, dance, dance... I convinced him to come up to my place. We were very touchy on the way up. When we arrived, the first thing he did was strip down and jump in the shower. No "Hey, do you mind if I... Do you have a clean towel... Might I wake up your roommate..."

So I brought him a towel, and we started messing around when he came back to my room. At this point, it was probably about 3:30am. Keep in mind this is a Tuesday. After a bit, I asked him if he wanted me to grab a condom, and he said yeah. Sweet.

I sprung up, ripped the wrapper, and started to lube up.

Him: "Hey, what is this? I don't like that."

Me: "Huh? What don't you like? Condoms?"

Him: "No, the condom is fine. But you're just gonna grab it and fuck me?"

Me: "[That was the idea, yeah.]"

image from venere.com

Then he got all preachy on me. He went on about how he knew it was just a hookup, but that we should share something and how I was treating him like just a hole to fuck and was this how I treated every guy.

So, not wanting to waste a night of pursuit and missed sleep, I indulged him: "What can I do to make this better?" The he asked me about my first gay experience.

. o O (Oh my god, I'm really not going to get any sleep or sex tonight!)

We talked. We shared. We kissed. After some more play, I asked him again if he wanted me to grab a condom, and for some reason, I believed him when he said yes this time. I suited up, pulled him to the edge of the bed on his back, and started working my way in.

You know how sometimes when a bottom isn't particularly tight, but he's stopping you every few millimeters even though you've used about $8 worth of your not-cheap lube already, and you think he's faking it for effect?

Yeah, me neither.

image from wtc7.net

So I finally work all the way in, and about a 30 seconds after I got into a slow rhythm, his eyes started to roll back into his head, and his body got all stiff. After I got over the ego boost of making a bottom cum first, something clicked in my mind.

. o O (You vengeful bitch.)

After keeping me up an extra 3 hours, guilt tripping me, and making me waste one of those expensive-ass condoms... He came quick-as-hell on fucking purpose. I felt violated.

Him: "Do you want me to suck you?"

Me: "Only if I can bust in your eye! No."

Him: "Okay, I'm gonna go, then."

I bet.

Did I mention Paris was never that high on my list? Yeah.

Click here to check out a friend's birthday and a night at the Baña Pool Party.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

he wanted to join me in the stall (Rockit Fridays at QUO)

I've long been saying that Friday nights in NYC are lame. And I fully take that back.

I decided on a whim to check out FV's party Rockit at their new venue Quo. This is one of those straight bars in West Chelsea that would normally require guys to get bottle service unless they have 12 women with them. The space was one floor (as far as I could tell) with a few levels: an elevated VIP/lounge area; a small dance floor, and a large recessed main dance floor with elevated booths in the back. Big as far as NYC standards go.

The party opens at 10 with open bar and $5 admission til 11. Admission is $10 after. Nightlife legend Lady Bunny DJs in the smaller room while DJ Keo Nozari spins on the main dance floor.

I arrived around 10:35. There was no line out front, and minimal wait to get drinks. Lady Bunny seemed to be doing a pop set with some R&B seasoning, and the main dance floor was closed.

photo from fveventsny.com

On my way in, a very familiar guy was outside smoking. A cute, late-20s, in-shape enough white guy. He went crazy over my cut-off polo: "Oh my god! I was gonna do the same thing to my white polo tonight! You know, 'cause it gets so hot, and I always get pit stains. But you should cut it straight so you don't get the points on your shoulders."

Me (with as gracious a smile as I could muster): "I actually like the triangles. Hey, I gotta catch the open bar, but I'm sure I'll see you inside."

I got a drink and accidentally tipped the bartender $6 instead of $2. I only noticed because I'd broken a 10 for a Red Bull (still $2 in my neighborhood), and when I went to get my second drink, I only had two 1s and some 20s. It was either over-tip like a motherfucker or look like an ass for the next 20 minutes. Guess which one I chose.

Lady Bunny put on Destiny's Child's "Jumpin' Jumpin'" during the open bar. As I was lip synching between gulps, Smoker Boy came up and started dancing with me. I engaged him a bit before he saw something shiny and ran away. 10 minutes later, he was back. He told me directly that he thought I was hot before shrugging and walking away.

Within 5 minutes, Smoker Boy wad making out with some guy. I cheered him on in my head because it seemed to be what he was looking for. 2 minutes later, it was back to me.

photo from 2time-sys.com

Him: "So where do you live?"

Me: "Uptown."

Him: "Like where?"

Me: "Washington Heights, actually."

Him: "Do you wanna just go?"

Me: "No, but thanks."

Him: "Why not?"

Me: "I just don't want to."

Him: "Okay."

Him (after making out with the other guy more): "Let's just go."

Me: "No."

Him: "Why don't you want to leave with me?"

Me: "I'm just not feeling it."

A short while later, after checking out the main dance floor, I slipped into the bathroom. I missed the 'Women' sign, and stepped in to find no urinals.

As I was walking to a stall, I saw (after open bar, so I could be wrong) Smoker Boy coming out of a stall with a guy who looked an awful lot like Evander Holyfield after his Mike Tyson fight.

When Smoker Boy saw me, he ran towards me, indicating that he wanted to join me in the stall. I told him no and tried to close the door, but he wasn't having it. So I let him in. And immediately slipped out into a stall on the other row.

He leapt for the door, and peeking over, he told me: "Dude, I just want a bump, man!" I have no idea what would lead him to believe I had any sort of contraband on me, but he slunk away soon after I told him I was only peeing.

When I was done, I swung by the VIP to wish Logan Slaughter and her new Louboutins a happy birthday (from outside the velvet rope). Logan cut our exchange short when she made a face and pointed behind me. I turned around to find Smoker Boy on the go-go platform with his pants unzipped. Totally Britney-Spears-ing it.

He was quite the spectacle, and he wouldn't leave me alone until I got on the platform with him. I was ready to go back to the smaller dance floor, but a song I really liked came on.

While we were up on the platform grinding, a bouncer came over to us. My first thought was . o O (Did this nasty hooker pull his dick out?), but it turns out they were making way for an actual go-go. I was still kind of embarrassed and fled to the other side of the dance floor, making sure to make Andrew Werner get a slutty photo of me before I left for the Grindr party at the Ritz.

The Ritz involved a lot of hot guys, but it was unremarkable (i.e., none of them were looking at me), so I moved on after about an hour.

Did I mention that Vlada's 2-2:15am open bar is the best worst idea ever? Yeah.

Click here to check out this night at Rockit at Amalia.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

But he’s pee shy (Daniel Nardicio's Birthday 2010 Underwear Party Sea Tea Gay Open Bar Booze Cruise NYC with Jet Blue's Steven Slater)

You would think that after a weekend like I had on Fire Island that I would have taken it easy when I got back to the city.

NOPE!

Daniel Nardicio was having one of his notorious underwear parties as a Sea Tea cruise! The actual utility of a Sea Tea depends on the promoter, but when I saw that it was a Nardicio party and open bar with Belvedere, I knew it’d be $25 well spent!

I had convinced Calipornia and AdamFaceHunt to come with me (neither was a hard sell). The open bar was 6-7, and I was the first of our trio to arrive around 6:20. When I saw how crowded the bar on the entrance level was, I thought to myself . o O (There's definitely a bar on each of the 3 levels of this boat…)

“Excuse me, are you doing open bar down here, too? Okay, let me get a screwdriver, please!”

Within 10 minutes, both my invitees were next to me with drinks in their hands.

Meanwhile, we’d noticed that everyone had his clothes on. Usually, Nardicio parties have a mandatory clothes check at the entrance, but there was none. We agreed that there must be an optional clothes check station that we missed in our rush to the bar. We also agreed that we would collectively bless the boat with as much skin as possible without being nekkid.

Did I mention that Belvedere Pink Grapefruit with pineapple and cranberry has this dangerous flavor-canceling effect? Yeah.

“Oh my god! Check out the guy in the leather jock strap and the leather mask… Okay, I officially love this party!”

Six drinks later (I think it was 6), we got in line for the dinner, which included dry-ass chicken, fried rice with veggies, and a couple of lactose-intolerant-discriminatory dishes that I couldn’t eat. Note: If you ever do Sea Tea, just cut up the chicken and eat it with the rice.

After checking our clothes (after we ate?!) we headed up to the packed dance floor on the top level. We heard an announcement about the promotion Cumshot Lube was doing. They had a silver platter full of what looked like used condoms, but they were samples of lube that was made to feel like cum.

In case you’re wondering, it’s water-based.

Speaking of used condoms, it didn’t take very long at all before a make-shift dark room formed at the far end of the dance floor. I can only imagine how it was to be getting blown on the water with a view of Lady Liberty (mostly because I didn’t do it). And to add to that, guys were blowing the go-goes! This one guy (who was surprisingly hot) was working on the leather-jock/mask go-go for at least 15 minutes. Viagra is a hell of a drug.

While I was chatting with Tré Xavier, Calipornia and AdamFaceHunt had acquired a clique of guys. We ended up on the middle floor at the bar. After I came back from the bathroom, AdamFaceHunt gave me an update: “The bartender said he’d drink this guy’s piss if it was clear. But he’s pee shy.”

I really shouldn’t finish the rest of this story, but…

Calipornia: “The Jet Blue guy is on this boat!”

Me: “What?”

Cali: “You know, Steven Slater! The flight attendant who freaked out and went down the emergency slide! My friend just snapped a picture with him on his phone!”

image from radaronline.com

Me (looking at the picture his friend had MMSed): “Wow, he looks different. He must have gained some weight or something... Whatever! I must find him!”

Unfortunately, it was about 10 minutes before the boat docked, so I did not find him. And more unfortunately, the guys who seemed to be all about Calipornia and AdamFaceHunt on the dance floor completely ignored them on land (file that under why I don’t talk to guys under 30).

Scotty Rox was filling in for DJ Xavier at Küte at G Lounge, so I stopped in for a drink (or 3). I saw Sherry Vine in the crowd, and I didn’t even realize she was performing until someone on staff walked by her and announced to her, “Sherry Vine in 5!” She got up on the bar and performed “You’re a Homo” (her parody of Lady Gaga’s “Alejandro).

Scotty Rox introduced me to her, and she was a total sweetheart: she actually laughed at my dumb musical theater joke!

Did I mention it may have been a good thing I didn't put too much effort into snapping a picture with the supposed Jet Blue Guy because he turned out to be an impostor? Yeah.

Click here to check out my first experience at a Nardicio underwear party.

Note: you may find the "Topics of Discussion" on the right and the Cast of Characters to be of help in navigating this blog.

Fun with Grindr Convos: “I was talking about Vodka, asshole!”

Grindr is a mobile application that’s categorized as “social networking,” but it basically boils down to a gay hook-up app. Users can post profiles with text and a picture, and the app has a chat function as well. But the biggest selling point is that it tells you how far away other users are based on their phone’s GPS. And as you can imagine, it gets hilarious. Click the pic to enlarge.

Some people are just beyond help.

This guy had an ass pic on his profile.

Turns out you can’t do that on Grindr.

Sometimes I talk to my friends on Grindr. Guess which one this was.

Get a load of this guy.

If your race is in your screenname, I’m already giving you the side eye. And you have the unmitigated gall to say “sup?” Anyway, it turned out he could actually read, because my headline said, “Google me, baby.”

And for all of you who don’t believe me about using Grindr as a valuable marketing tool…

Irony: he was cute, and I don't remember his screenname.

This was just a total WTF moment.

He never ended up revealing his identity.

“I was talking about Vodka, asshole!”

Click here to check out more Fun with Grindr (this one is a lot less reading).

navigating the Meatrack was much easier (Fire Island Black Out FIBO '10 Part II)

Click here to check out FIBO '10 Part I.

After sundown, basically everyone I knew was headed back to the city. As I was walking back from peeing off of a quiet part of the boardwalk (don't ask me why the hell I didn't just go in the Ice Palace), I ran into the Architect. Earlier, I'd texted the Architect to ask about crashing on a couch that night. He answered my text with a phone call about having a date, but it may not pan out, and this and that. Apparently, crashing on a couch is a big deal in the Pines (which is part of the reason why I'm not into that whole thing... people get so fucking touchy about their fabulousness).

Architect on the phone: "Yes, D. Kareem be the 12th for dinner."

Outside of running into KennyKennyKenny, who had bought a share in the Architect's house, dinner was pleasantly uneventful (but the chicken skewers were slammin'!). It was around 12:30 by the time I set out for the trek across the Pines, through the Meatrack, and into Cherry Grove. I was pretty sure I'd missed my handsome older gentleman at that point.

But I did end up running into the Latin guy I'd gone home with after the En Vogue concert in May of '09. I wasn't that into it, so we never ended up hooking up again (despite his constant texting and calling). And of course, he had nothing but dirty thoughts on his mind as soon as we ran into each other

We danced with each other, and he asked me if I wanted to go back to his place in the Pines. I politely and clearly declined. Then he offered to buy me a drink. And another. Honey, by the time he gave up and left, I was wasted!

I ended up hanging out with a white guy who was totally loving the attention he was getting from me and a couple of other black dudes. It was one of those situations that I was pretty sure wasn't gonna go anywhere, but I there was a chance of at least a good story out of it. We closed down the Ice Palace and walked him and his friend back to their place. As soon as they went inside, the 3 of us that were following him around dispersed in sparate directions without a word to each other. Luckily, it was pretty much daylight, so navigating the Meatrack was much easier than last time.

I crashed at the Architect's around 5, and my body wouldn't let me sleep a minute past 11. After playing who-in-the-house-is-on-Grindr, I realized I could catch the next ferry if I hustled to town.

On the LIRR back to the City, I took a seat on the upper level of the double-decker car. The car was basically empty, and a really hot black guy walked on not long after. He looked around at all the empty seats, sat across the aisle from me and smiled. I smiled back, but in my head, I was like . o O (Damnit! I'm starving, and all I have is this chicken sandwich from yesterday with shredded lettuce! Fuck it; I'm eating in front of him!)

I avoided eye contact until the last bite was gone. As I grabbed a water bottle out of my bag, we made eye contact again and smiled. As I was turning back, I took a swig from the water bottle and realized that I'd just swigged from the bottle of left-over vodka I'd packed for the beach. I don't think I made any type of noise, but I definitely spit the vodka back into the bottle (sandwich bits and all) and served Im-gonna-die face. Either the hottie was an amazing actor or he didn't notice.

Did I mention that when we changed trains at Babylon, he sat in a rather crowded section of the train in a 3-seater with someone already in one of the seats (I should have slipped him a business card for the blog so he could see me write about his ass)? Yeah.

Click here to check out the time I went to Fire Island and gave Colton Ford the shocker.


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