I'd work much better as bait (don't read this if you don't like stories about group sex)

The night of the RuPaul's Drag Race reunion, I'd texted DJ Scotty Rox to see if he was at XL.

That may or may not have started with a convo about another party...

I definitely prefer hanging out with drag queens and nightlife personalities in more intimate settings, so Bohoken and I left XL about halfway through the queens’ performances. He was exhausted, so we jumped in a cab, dropping me off 3 blocks uptown while he continued to my place.

When I arrived at Bar-tini, Shequida was in the middle of a show. Scotty explained to me that they had given Shequida a show that night because she had connections to get the queens (specifically Sharon Needles) to show up after the XL shenanigans.

Just after Scotty hooked me up with a drink I really didn't need (especially after an MTV-employed friend had been handing me drink tickets at XL all night… so much for my tagline), a tall, slim, 40ish white guy with a ridiculous mustache started chatting me up.

Did I mention that I love ridiculous mustaches? Yeah.

Ew.

Eventually, he informed me that he was visiting from out of town and that he was trying to coordinate some group action at the Out NY hotel (the one next to XL). I said, "Fuck it, why not. It's about time I saw the inside of that place anyway."

He sent me back into the crowd on a mission to pick up other guys to bring. Here's why that would never work: a) I live here, so the guys I'd approach would be guys who are totally opposed, whom I'd never seen before, and whom I'd see out every weekend henceforth; b) I suck at approaching guys just for 1-on-1. I decided I'd work much better as bait, so I left the hunting to my new friend, 'Stache-uesque.

A bunch of queens, both from Drag Race and the NYC scene, showed up later in the night. The one that comes to mind is Chad Michaels, who may or may not have witnessed my being introduced to our 3rd, very cute, Possibly Latin young'n.

Chad Michaels and Epiphany

After the two of us had conversed for a while ('Stache-uesque was still hunting), he genuinely thought that I wasn't into him. I made a very convincing argument to the contrary.

I ended up in a cab with 'Stache-uesque, Possibly Latin, and this guy who I could tell within half a second of meeting him would just annoy the fuck out of me. He was cute enough, but he had a whiney voice and a demeanor to match. Picture all the undesirable elements of a hipster but adorably self-unaware. Basically a drunk NYU student whom I couldn't even imagine hate-fucking.

Now, the clever ones among you are thinking, "Why were y'all in a cab from Bar-tini to Out NY, 3 blocks away?" Why? Because I insisted on heading to 8th Ave for condoms and good lube. And detours are a good way to make a sex situation fall apart. When herding cats, it's best to corale them and act before anyone starts asking questions or suggesting other options (e.g., “Oo, a diner! I want eggs!”).

So 'Stache-uesque and I hopped out of the waiting cab and ran into the sex shop for some Wet Platinum and condoms. 5 minutes later, I my clothes were on the floor of a very modern hotel room, and I was in the shower with Possibly Latin.

No, I did not have sex with Shangela. That night. 

After some making out, we joined 'Stache-uesque and NY(R)U Here on the bed. 'Stache-uesque wanted to put some porn on the TV, as one does when one is in the midst of a fourgy. But the TV wouldn't cooperate. None of us had any luck, but rather than shrug it off, 'Stache-uesque called the front desk, telling them his issue in clear detail. It took about 5 minutes for some big straight Latin guy (I swear was a bouncer from XL) to show up and fiddle with the remote. Then he got a new remote, which he had to fetch from another room, and fiddled some more. 45 minutes later, there was no porn. Luckily, someone had thought to cover up the dust that was lined up on the table.

Then 'Stache-uesque whispered those magic words every boy longs to hear: "I want you to take me in the bathroom and fuck my brains out."

Then 'Stache-uesque whispered those OTHER magic words every boy longs to hear: "I want you to fuck me on the bed and make the other guys watch."

Around 6:30, I was gathering my clothes when NY(R)U Here whined, "Hey! You're the only one that's cum!"

Me: "Yup. BTW, you've totally got coke-dick, man. You're gonna rub yourself raw if you keep tugging like that. If it hasn't happened by now..."

I have no idea who you are, but WORK!

Picture me on 42nd St in full daylight hailing a cab. Luckily the paparazzi had given up for the night.

I got back to my place just in time to kiss Bohoken on his way out, and I had just enough time to sleep for 45 minutes before work.

Oh, did I mention it was now Tuesday? Yeah.

Click here to check out a purely hypothetical steam room story that totally didn't happen at any time in reality. At all.