I was fresh meat on Grindr (my family reunion in NC, Part I)

On the 4th of July weekend when all the gays were on their way to Toronto Pride (seriously, how did that get so popular among NYC gays this year?), I hopped on a plane to Charlotte, NC for a family reunion, which could only be fun and exciting with a family like mine. Not that I have family in Charlotte; it's just a lot more exciting than Columbia where my parents and siblings live.

Mom picked me up from the airport, and it wasn't until we were back on the interstate and Mom had me look up what exit the hotel was off of that I realized that we were not, in fact, staying in Charlotte. The hotel was in Concord (a good 20 miles northeast).

image from mooresvillefoodie.blogspot.com
this was an actual establishment close to our hotel... they did oil changes, too

Mom always books at least one spare room at these reunions, so she told me and Hippy Cuz we could split one. But for whatever reason she didn't give us keys when we got to the hotel. No, we went directly to the hospitality suite. As much as I wanted to get settled, they had wings and liquor!!! most of the family was already catching up there.

After a much-needed snack and a few drinks, Mom finally gave us our welcome packets from the hotel, which included our keys, passes for the breakfast buffet and drink tickets for the daily manager's reception. My phone was about to die, so I really needed to plug it in (hello: I was fresh meat on Grindr in Concord!).

Back in the hospitality suite, my poor brother-in-law was passed out in the bedroom while 15 of us were playing music and cackling out in the living room.

Me: "But wait, have y'all heard of Go the Fuck to Sleep?"

Older Cousin: "No, what's that?"

Me: "Oh my god! It's hilarious! It's written like a kids book with illustrations, but every line ends with 'Go the fuck to sleep!' There's a video on YouTube where Samuel L. Jackson reads it!"

Other older cousin: "I'm pulling it up on my iPad now."

image from doobybrain.com

You would have thought we were seeing Mo'nique in Queens of Comedy the way we were hollering over this video!

Around 3, we finally called it a night. And of course, when we got to our room, my brother was sprawled out across one of the beds. Mom, who had come up with us, gave us keys to another room she'd reserved. I nodded along and as she double-checked the room numbers in the leaflets the keys came in and reprised the earlier key-granting ceremony because I knew it would make her feel better. But in my head, I wasn't so calm.

Did I mention we were supposed to be going white water rafting the next day?

It was a half-hour drive to the US National Whitewater Center, a large set of man-made streams for rafting and kayaking (they have rock climbing with hot, shirtless belayers, too), and somehow, I got roped into driving. This especially sucked because my brother had brought me back some rum from his trip to the Dominican Republic, and I had to finish it or ditch it before I got on the plane back to NYC. Today was supposed to put a dent in it. 

When we finally split up into groups for the rafts, my group got one of the few female guides, who was surprisingly hung over laid back. She made an effort to get us excited about our runs, but it seemed like excitement just wasn't her style. But she was knowledgeable and polite.

Guide: "We call this rapid M…"

Me (in my head, bracing myself): "Ah, it does have kind of an M shape..."

Guide: "…like Mike Tyson. Because it packs a punch. Ready?"

First rapid: Class III. Half the raft fell out, but the water was the temperature of a bath (the county’s reservoir supplied all the water for the facility). It wasn't like falling into  Nantahala, the river we used to raft when I was a kid. Fall into Nantahala and you can't feel your fingers for the next 10 minutes!

image from usnwc.org

We collected our family members and their paddles and had a fall-free remainder of the run, which totaled about 4 minutes. After a couple more times down that, and we were feeling really confident.

Guide: "Y'all wanna go down the Rodeo course?"

Everyone: "Yeah!"

Me: "Oh, fu— uh, I mean, yeah!"

So this run had Class-IV rapids, and I could def tell the difference. But we made it through twice with everybody on the raft! The guide told us we had time to do 1 more run, and the whole time, the kids wanted to do a run backwards. The adults eventually warmed up to the idea.

Before we started, our guide was showing us the ropes in the raft. One of the things she said was "Everybody in", where you're supposed to huddle with your knees on the floor of the raft and lean in. As we were going into the last rapid, she yelled "Everybody in!" I think I was the only one who heard.

I remember losing my balance. I remember seeing water splash over my head. I remember grabbing a leg that felt like it was going over and figuring out it was the guide's. And when I finally got my bearings, again, half of  my group was gone. Once those of us who were still in the raft realized that we were still in the raft (it took a good 10 seconds), we pulled our comrades back in. 

image from usnwc.org

As we pulled up to the docking area, I realized there was something in my pocket: my Skull Candy ear buds! But best believe when I finally dried off that they still worked just as well as before!

Our wristbands would have allowed us to do another 90 min of rafting, but everyone was pretty much all set after one round. Dad spent a shocking amount on burritos and tacos for all the kids (myself included) while I flirted with the cute guy making them. And by flirted, I mean made eye contact and smirked (hey, it was a busy assembly line).

After lunch, which we ate at the table Mom had camped out at while we were rafting (you couldn't find one in the shade, Ma!), my 13-year-old nephew announced to Dad that he wanted to go kayaking. After a “why didn't you say something earlier,” Dad relented and took him over. I was really touched by Dad’s agreeing to take him, mostly because my Red Bull was wearing off. If he'd've asked me, I'd've been like, “We're leaving!” But it ended up being an hour wait, so they ended up nixing that idea anyway.

Most of the teenage boys were, in fact, ready to leave since it was so damn hot. The one teenage girl in the family that actually came with us wanted to do the zip line, which was a good half-hour wait. Mom said she's wait for our zip-lining cousin, which was great since I was ready to go back to the hotel for a nap myself. Did I mention that Mom was in the car I was driving? Yeah.


Coming up in Part II: The family banquet and how we got around the cash bar (?!!). 


Click here to check out Thankgiving with both sides of The Fam. 

bad judgment calls under pressure (NYC Pride 2011)

Just like last year, RSTLNE hosted a Pride brunch catered by Bottomless Pitt (Med School Mess apparently helped boil water or something).

Call time: 11:30. My arrival: 1.

I'd ordered a tshirt online a few months before that was exactly my brand of humor. The ultimate test of will power: saving it for Pride.

hint: it's backwards

The brunch was already crowded by the time I got there, and a number of unfamiliar faces attended. I figured I had the whole day to drink, so I grabbed a plate and chowed down. It wasn't until RSTLNE brought out the rainbow jello shots that I actually had alcohol.

“D. Kareem! You're wearing purple! Get over here!”

“Wait, who's wearing indigo! We need an indigo!”

“You two switch.”

“No they don’t.”

“Yes, they do!”

“No! ROY G. BIV, remember?”

image from bronx newbie's facebook profile. 

Turns out we had the colors of the gay flag represented in our outfits. I hate us. 

When I finally started drinking, I went pretty hard because I wasn't trying to deal with bars jacking up their prices for Pride. A friend reminded me that Candis Cayne was appearing at the new Dream Hotel Downtown, so I suggested this as a post-brunch destination.

As she herded us out of her apartment, RSTLNE insisted that we go by the parade. We indulged her for about 20 min. It was so worth it for this pic.

shoutout to the lesbians: y'all make gay pride so much more fun than gay men do

I led the way to the new Dream Hotel (the old Maritime Hotel for you NYC-savvy readers). We had to stand in line for about 10-15 minutes before we were admitted. But let me tell you: it was worth it!

The lobby was cavernous, but the (non-security) staff was welcoming.

Me: “Wow, I love your dress!”

Staff: “Thanks! It’s the uniform.”

We were guided to the elevator, and when we exited on the top floor, I had to congratulate myself on leading our crew to this party.

And guess who happened to be there:

this image pretty much sums up the vibe I get from these queens when I see them out

Manilla Luzon of Ru Paul's Drag Race season 3 and Sahara Davenport of season 2. They're boyfriends.

Me: “I was dying on your first episode when it was you and your friend...”

Sahara (graciously): “Shangela.”

Me: “Yes, Shangela, and you guys started voguing on the lipsync elimination! The one drag queen was like 'Yes, honey! Worrrrrrk!' and Pandora was like, 'It was like...’”

Both of us (bursting into laughter): “Mortal Kombat!”

I finally got a chance to see Candis Cayne perform! She's legendary in the gay world, but she's always in LA!

Urban Sprawl: "I can't believe none of you has seen her perform!"

Me: "Honey, you're dating yourself."

When she took that stage, I learned very quickly why she's so famed. Dynamic doesn’t even begin to describe this performance! Up on the windowsill, the go-go box, table tops, booths, up and down the aisles! I mean, it was much better than most drag queens! PS, she is not a drag queen: she's actually trans.

PPS, if I ever see Whitney Day on a flyer as a DJ for a party, I'm definitely going. She had an amazing mix of current pop and throwbacks I hadn't thought of in years! Did I mention I thought she said Wendy Day at first (some drag queen probably had dibs on that anyway)? Yeah.

After the performance, we went down to the pool deck, which is sandwiched between the two buildings of the hotel. Also beautiful. And a few brave souls were already in the water when we got down there. Of course, it was full of boys about a half hour later.

Me: “Are you hungry? I'm kinda starving. ”

AdamFaceHunt: “Yeah, should we—”

Me: “Ditch? Absolutely. I can't deal with waiting for a table for 9."

After stuffing our faces (Thai, of course), we went to XES to meet up with some guys AdamFaceHunt knew from the Gay Men's Chorus but she’s no singer, so I’m going to assume they met on Adam4Adam. We left for Boxers about 10 minutes after we got there.

On the way out, I ran into hOtter, which was an awkward moment because with big events like Pride, I kinda just like to do my own thing. Plus, I really wasn't sure about the vibe I was getting from these guys, and hOtter isn't really the most... let's say, compatible with your typical gay male. As they were walking, I offered for him to come along (more or less to quell future awkwardness with someone I was generally very into), but he didn't seem convinced. I could tell something wasn’t right about it. Sometimes I make bad judgment calls under pressure.

When I caught up to the group, one guy made it his business to talk to me along 6^th Ave. I wasn't really attracted to him. But he was nice (not to mention extremely interested in hearing me talk about my favorite subject: me). We talked most of the way to Boxers.

When I say Boxers was packed, I mean... well, it was exactly what you'd expect at a gay bar on Pride Sunday in Chelsea. The Hot Shirtless Guy of the group got a round of drinks for his friends (including the Overtly Friendly Guy) before I got to the bar and waited 15 minutes to order a drink.

image from boxersnyc.com

As I was waiting, I felt somebody flick my nipple. Can I just let y’all know right now that my nipples are off limits… unless we've established that you'll be borrowing my courtesy poppers later on. I jumped and knocked the Overtly Friendly Guy's hand away, spilling his drink the drink the Hot Shirtless guy had bought him. Now, rather than apologize for invading my personal space (just because nipples are out doesn't mean you're invited to touch) and suffer the consequences of said invasion, this kid wanted me to buy him a fresh drink!

I was heated!

I took a deep breath bought him the drink to be done with the situation. "Here." was the last thing I said to him. Turns out he and his friend ended up having to leave for a train 5 min later. Overtly Friendly Guy gave the drink to his friend to finish, and his friend passed it to me. I promptly gave said friend a lingering goodbye hug and my card to add me on Facebook. Overtly Friendly Guy got a nod as I turned my attention to the Hot Shirtless Guy.

Shit, he and the drag queen are going after the same guy. This can’t end well.

The night ended at Gym with Duplex buying me way too many drinks. I tried to get to Griffin, which had revived their Sunday gay party, but the line was too long. Plus none of my door connections answered my texts til like an hour later. This led to more drinks with Duplex.

Did I mention that I had to get home Monday morning in that outfit?

Yeah.

Click here to check out NYC Pride '10... or what I could remember of it.  

ANNOUNCEMENT: James Tate and Nite Camp Present Camp 2011 (Aug 19-22)

I don't know if you've heard about this or not, but coming up this weekend is Camp 2011. It's 3 days of parties and events in the great outdoors presented by super-promoter James Tate (his rap sheet resume includes all kinds of parties and events up and down the mid-Atlantic coast).

The festivities take place at The Woods, a 100-acre camp ground in the Poconos. In addition to the lake, volleyball courts, trails and other outdoorsy amenities, there are some crazy nighttime parties planned. Friday's Lord of the Flies party (bonfire!) and Saturday's Angel's & Demons party both encourage costume participation, and the organizers will provide materials for you to create outfits at the party! And they still haven't revealed what the "big announcement" is on Sunday, but from what I know of Miss. Tate's events, it'll be worth sticking around for. Did I mention the daily pool parties and the Playhouse fetish lounge (from Code DC)? Yeah.

image from camp 2011's facebook page

As far as places to stay, they have plenty of tent space. And if you're anything like me, you just scoffed at that last sentence. Fret not: there are hotels in the area, and shuttle service will be available. You can also rent RVs to stay in.

And how are you supposed to get there? Duh, they have busses leaving from NYC, Philly and DC (so you know it won't just be the same tired old queens you see every weekend).

This is guaranteed to be a ridiculous, sun-your-buns, solo-cup-carrying time. While the target is gays (and girls) 18-34, all ages are welcome, and discounts are available for those 23 and under. There are also VIP upgrades. Check out the Camp 2011 website for pricing and all other info.

Did I mention the boys of Nite Camp will be in attendance (if you're not familiar, click here for an NSFW-for-butt-shots video preview). Yeah.

Click here to check out the (regrettable) time I went for a hike in the woods and learned the meaning of 'scramble'. 

Click here and Like Camp 2011 on Facebook. No guarantees, but I saw limited 50%-off tickets promoted on their wall last week. 

Ciara Performs at Malibu's Station Takeover in NYC

I was super-excited about getting to see Ciara perform live. Anybody who knows me knows that Fantasy Ride was my shit!

Malibu Rum was sponsoring a Station Takeover at Beekman's beer garden in South St. Seaport, and thanks to my status as an NYCRecessionDiary.com contributor, I got press entry. I brought (former) blogger buddy Adam B. Irby with me.

Earlier that day, I'd tweeted and tagged Ciara. Over the next hour, I noticed that I'd gained like 25 followers and gotten retweeted at least 5 times. Turns out Ciara had retweeted me!

After I finished gagging, I immediately made sure my most current tweet was a link to my blog.

When Adam and I arrived at the beer garden (just before DJ Skribble killed his opening set... dynamic live mixing indeed) we bee-lined it to the bar. Who knew that a) Malibu made a 70-proof rum and b) it went so well with ginger ale! I'd had a protein shake right before I left the office, but Adam had nothing but good things to say about the food they served. Apparently those burgers were to die for.

And of course, it was all free.

After about 7 Malibu Blacks with ginger, I heard an intro to a Ciara song. Please tell me why she came out in white, skin-tight, patent-leather-esque pants with cargo pockets! But somehow, she pulled it off. And the white harnesses on her and her 4 dancers were a nice touch.

photo by Michael Simon

One thing I've always admired about Ciara is that she'll sing and dance at the same time (most dancing singers don't move much when they're actually vocalizing). And Ciara definitely delivered for her very long set. It was a high-energy performance with about 3x the stage time I was expecting. It's a shame Ciara's current music isn't more popular because she delivers on stage like few pop artists can.

This Malibu Station Takeover was part of a 10-city tour. If this is any indication of Malibu Rum's future events, I say get on the bandwagon early next time you hear about one! Highly recommended.

Thanks to Ketchum PR for hooking me up!

Click here to check out when I saw Beyoncé on tour.

Fun with Grindr Convos: You really don't get it, huh.

Profiles often make me laugh out loud at Grindr (the gay 'social networking' app that tells you how far other users are from you). But it's the conversations that really make me snarf my protein shake. Why do people think it's okay to say these things to me?!

The difference between 'ser' and 'estar'.

Get off my back, Aunt Tony. 

You really don't get it, huh. 

But let's be real...

Before Grindr made me change it, my profile name was "Google Me". It was always good for a laugh at the expense of the less tech-savvy. 

...or did you mean the borough?

But he was cute, so whatever.

The best part of waking up is DICK IN YO' ASS, HO!

Click here to check out more Fun with Grindr.

"I don't blow: ask my husband." (Muscle Bear Sea Tea and other Pride Saturday adventures)

Pride Saturday started off low-key-ish. I turned down boozy brunch to do my hair (a smart choice on one of the most photographed weekends of the year), but I finished up in time to make the tail end of an open-bar Ivy-League alumni mixer that friends of mine always go to. Unfortunately, many of the usual suspects weren't there. Also, only well drinks were free. On the other hand, my non-Ivy-League school (thank god!) hasn't subsidized an open bar event since I graduated. Womp womp.

After the mixer, I made my way down to the Pier with Tighty Whitey, where I had planned to meet hOtter to pre-game for Sea Tea. For those unfamiliar, the Christopher St. Pier (often incorrectly called 'Chelsea Piers'... those are in Chelsea) used to be a dilapidated, abandoned pier where the gays used to cruise and fuck. It was revamped some years ago and is now a park where gays go lie out in their speedos when they're too lazy to trek to the beach. hOtter was running late, but as we lay out and people watched, I noticed a familiar face walk by.

Back in '03, I did a semester in Sydney, Australia. There was a certain Milanese guy that I drunkenly went home with who became a friend with benefits. He relentlessly chased black and Latino guys, which are rare breeds in Australia. Anyway, he moved to NYC about 6 months ago, so I see him out somewhat often.

image from vivagoal.com

So the Guy from Milano (GfM) had a seat and started conversing with us for a while before hOtter got there. The dynamic in our group was hilarious because neither GfM nor hOtter knew how I knew the other, but they instantly had no interest in what the other had to say. In fact, GfM almost completely stopped talking.

Then, an acquaintance, whom I had met about 4 years ago when an out-of-town friend cruised him on the Pier (I hadn't seen him in at least 2 years), approached us. Apparently, he'd given up fun drugs, sex and alcohol and had devoted his life to Christ. I was happy for his finding happiness, but this really wasn't the crew to go on about being saved and sanctified in front of. After an uncomfortable few minutes, during with I completely drained the contents of my water bottle, he wandered off.

It was just hOtter and I doing the Muscle Bear Sea Tea, which is Pride Saturday every year. The website definitely said we were pulling off at 7:30, but I got nervous around 6:45 when another booze cruise pulled off. As we made our way down, I pulled out another screwdriver in a water bottle to chug with hOtter before we boarded. Good thing, too, because there was enough confiscated liquor on security's table to re-stock a private bar!

As soon as we walked on, I brought hOtter up to the top floor to say hi to Corey Craig, who was spinning for the party. Smart move on the promoter's part to target a younger audience since bears aren't generally known for their love of anything besides house pop.

We danced... we lip-synched... we endured yet another playing of "Empire State of Mind" (only because it was as we passed the Statue of Liberty)... And thank god for that free buffet on the ship: in the rush to do my hair and catch that alumni party, I hadn't eaten before leaving the house!

Once we were done with the cruse, I dragged hOtter to a penthouse party in midtown at Frat Boy's new place. Wrap-around terrace, duplex, new everything: it was ridonks.

It was the weekend before Frat Boy's birthday, so his cousins brought out all these cup cakes with candles on  them. There was no way he could blow them all out, and this situation sparked an awkward moment.

Me: "Well, if there's one thing I know she can do, it's blow!"
NYPD Aunt form Long Island: "She who?! I know you're not talking about me! I don't blow: ask my husband."

A short, white 40-something guy nodded in the corner.

Me: "No! I meant this she! The birthday boy!"

Somehow, Frat Boy had convinced said NYPD aunt (go with the image in your head; it's not far off) that I was a good person to tame her unruly 15 year old son. It had apparently gotten to the point where he'd hit her, and she needed someone to "scare him straight!"

I am the least confrontational person Frat Boy knows.

After a half hour of her explaining her situation, I gave her my hit-man-for-hire card and got another drink. As much as I hate to waste a good buzz on ending my night at a house party, I figured the bars would be pretty much amateur hour on Pride weekend.

And did I mention I had an 11:30 brunch to wake up for? Yeah.


Click here to check out the first Muscle Bear cruise I blogged about in '08.

really embarrassing for him with those boxers (Pride Friday, Buck Underwear Party, and the Passing of Marriage Equality in NYC)

Pride weekend was a lot of look.

After working late, I took a disco nap and raced down to Calipornia's place in Hell's Kitchen to pre-game for Daniel Nardicio's Buck underwear party. When I arrived, Cali had NY1 (a local news channel) on, watching the coverage of the marriage equality vote with the New York state senate.

Cali: "God, this senator is about to speak. I'm sure his speech will be so touching and moving, but he talks so slow! They'll have already voted by the time he finishes!"

AdamFaceHunt arrived not long after I did, and we all made idle chatter over cocktails as we watch the reporters stall in front of Stonewall while the vote took place.

When they announced that the bill had passed (by a not-so-large margin), the gays on Christopher St. erupted in jubilation on TV! There was literally a party in the streets! Apparently, they even kept the liquor store just down the street from Stonewall open a lot later than it's usual.

Me: "This would be a good time to go to law school. All those gay divorces in 3 years!"

Cali (typing on his phone): "What would you call a male bride-zilla? Groom..."

Me: "Groom-asaurus rex? Veloca groom-tor?"

Cali: "Franken-groom?"

AdamFaceHunt: "Franken-groom gets my vote."

We tweeted and drank til about 11:30 before hopping a cab down to Rock Bar. When we walked in, it was almost empty. Like, if the DJ weren't spinning, you'd hear the crickets.

Cali (going into party-planner panicking): "Crap! Is it gonna be this lame the whole night?! I mean, it is Pride. There are so many parties to compete with this weekend!"

Me: "It's a late crowd. Let's give it some time."

The party gained momentum as the night went on. The 3 of us started talking to a very cute, very tall blond-ish muscle twunk. Apparently he wasn't planning on attending an underwear party when he left his apartment that night.

image from examiner.com

Cali: "Well, I think if you're going to wear boxers, you should at least roll them up some."

Twunk: "Er, maybe once this drink kicks in."

Cali: "New rule! Every 15 minutes, you roll up the waist one roll. We'll start now."

It was a brilliant excuse for Calipornia to touch him repeatedly. The twunk was fun to talk to and damn sexy, but I really wasn't trying to turn on the charm with him. I felt like he'd be more likely to be into Cali or AdamFaceHunt, both of whom present quite well in underwear. But I started getting a vibe from him.

At one point, I announced that I was headed to the bathroom, and the twunk followed. When we made it back from the dark room (the bathroom is on the far side of said dark room), I made some trivial comment that didn't necessitate a response. There were a few seconds of silence where we were eye to eye (well, eye to nose since he was actually taller than I).

You know how there are those moments when it's awkward if you don't kiss? I let it linger for just enough time to create flirtatious doubt before I went in. My first thought: this could be really embarrassing for him with those boxers.

image from awkwardboners.com

I stayed at the party til about 2:30 before I caught up with some of the boys who were still celebrating at Pieces. It was still packed, and everyone was wasted. As much as I wanted to join in, I knew it was only the first night of a long weekend of partying. Plus I had a twunky blonde that I had to get to Washington Heights before he changed his mind.

Did I mention that I did a little dance in my head when the A-train conductor announced that we'd be going express from 59th to 125th St (not that it makes much difference in the time, but it's SUCH a mental win!)? Yeah.

Click here to check out the first Daniel Nardicio Underwear Party I went to.