It was the end of June before I even realized I hadn't been out to Fire Island yet. Some friends were going in on a house for a week, but Bohoken and I were out of town for those dates, plus they insisted on staying the Pines (nothing wrong with the Pines, I'm just more of a Grove Guy). I reached out to someone at Prudential about apartments to rent out there, but he was slow to respond to my 2 emails and not all that informative. A Twitter friend pointed me in the direction of A Summer Place Realty, however, and Sofina was prompt and accommodating, sending us a variety of listings. We had to snail-mail the rental agreement and the check, which kinda sucked (no online system?!), but other than that, we were quite satisfied with their service.
|Yes, I bought the shorts everybody on Facebook said they hated. Eat it.|
We went with a 1-bedroom in the historic Pride House, which has 3 independent units with separate entrances (I barely noticed the other tenants). Because Bohoken had half days on Fridays at his job and I'd taken the day off, we were able to enjoy a leisurely lunch in Chelsea before grabbing some bottles of vodka for house parties in Penn Station's liquor store (everything's more expensive on the Island). We even had time to get a couple of mini-bottles of champagne for the train ride. For extra classy points, we got them in cups with ice and straws.
I'm so used to going out to Fire Island alone to crash with the Architect, so having someone to ride with made the trip go by tons faster. That and Justin Luke Zirilli's Gulliver Takes Manhattan, of course. Though the train was packed, the ferry ended up being less than half full. No competition for a ride on the upper deck.
As per usual, Bohoken couldn't resist snapping photos of me in the sunlight.
Me: “Well, If we're gonna do it, let's do it right." *takes shirt off* “Here, get me pointing off into the distance. Okay now this way; I don't want to be squinting into the light.”
16-year-old boat hand (appearing out of nowhere): “Um, sir? You have to be seated.”
Me: “Oh… sorry.”
|"OMG! I've never been on a boat before!"|
Sofina, our real estate agent, walked us to the house and made sure we got settled. Since I'm so used to a 10-minute march to get to town, it was a relief to be right near all the restaurants and shops, especially when I realized I'd forgotten the bug spray.
After an early dinner on the bay and a disco nap, we vegged out for a bit, checking out the Scruff scene (little to no reception with AT&T, but we insisted on an apartment with Wi-Fi).
With a couple of pre-game drinks in our system, we set out for Daniel Nardicio's underwear party at the Ice Palace just before midnight.
Bohoken: "Baby, you're going like that?"
Me: "Yes! The party is like 200m away. It's not like it's cold outside. Hope these boys like bug spray."
Bohoken: "Can we do that? Just walk there in our underwear?"
Me: "Queens walk up and down these boardwalks in speedos in broad daylight all day! You think somebody's gonna notice your briefs?"
Bohoken: "I don't know..."
Me: "Well, you stand in line for clothes check if you want to. I'll be saving my singles for the go-goes."
|I did NOT receive a discount for wearing a jock strap...|
Amazingly, absolutely nothing happened during our brief walk to the party.
Robbyne (at the door): "Heeeeeeyyyyyyy, boo boo! I haven't seen you in a mon’a Sundays! How you been!"
Me: "You know, same old same old. Is it busy tonight?"
Robbyne: "Honey, you know it! Get in there and get it started! Ron, he's good. Him and his friend!"
God bless that blonde-wigged black woman.
It looked like a bunch of people had just arrived because the outer area where the clothes check was located was packed. Boys were just starting to trickle into the main bar area where the go-goes danced on top of the bar. Mr. Nardicio was welcoming some Pines virgin to his party by offering him a shot in exchange for showing his cock.
Did I mention a) the $5 discount if you come in a jock strap and b) the boy who took advantage of said discount and took a piggyback ride on his tall friend? Yeah.
As always, things got pretty fucking wild. I hung out with a few friends who had tromped over from the Pines as well as a recently divorced friend visiting from LA. At one point, I looked over and saw Calipornia and her housemate on the stage making out with two twinks who may as well have been twins. And as always, the back room got quite a bit of use from the patrons.
|What do you mean they won't serve me anymore?!|
Later, when I was trying to use a small bottle of lube with a pump, I must have done something terribly wrong because the top of the pump top went flying into the dark. Did I mention that I had to throw the rest of the bottle out because a) there was no way to keep it contained in a bag (even with the outer cap) and b) that it's super hard to hand-pour an appropriate amount of lube after 8(ish) drinks? Yeah.
Click here to check out when Kat De Luna came to Fire Island and complimented my "booty".