My birthday hasn’t been on a weekend in way too long. When one has a middle-of-the-week birthday, one can either a) celebrate in the middle of the week and risk people being too lazy to show up or b) celebrate on the weekend and risk all kinds of scheduling conflicts. I chose both.
What? My birthdays are low-budget legendary!
For this birthday, Folsom St. East ended up being just a few days off, so I planned a fetish pre-brunch at Bohoken’s. Now, I realized that many of the people I hang out with
are total squares own absolutely no
fetish gear, so I figured I’d give them the chance to armor themselves
beforehand with a shopping happy hour!
We all met up at Gym for their 2-4-1 around 6:30, which is really too late for how early the stores in Chelsea close, but employment has to be considered. There was a crew of about 10 of us who migrated across the street to Nasty Pig. It was a good starting off point because they’re mostly tshirts and sweat pants, but they have their share of neoprene gear (which you’ve seen me model). I ended up finding a buckle that would totally fit one of my favorite belts (it has a very flashy label on the buckle… I really like that it’s orange ostrich, but I’m not a label guy). A friend PharmaceutiCub , who had just gotten back from IML and was schooling us on the over 300 shades of hankies in the hanky code (apparently different countries have different codes for the same colors, too), bought a wrist band. A couple of friends tried items on (and looked pretty good), but no other purchases were made.
|"you're not gonna buy these chaps, are you?"|
Go-go and retail wonder Jay Roth kept the store open a bit late for us, but by the time we left, Rufskin was already closed. So we caught the train down to Christopher St to our next destination: London (the store, not the city).
Girl, it was like a bachelorette party. Lots of pointing, giggling, holding outfits up. We had to be told not to take pictures. A little embarrassing, but I guess that’s to be expected with guys who aren’t so familiar with fetish gear.
Oddly, Leatherman was already closed (but London stays open til 11), so we stopped in the Hangar to wrap up our crawl. It’s very much not a place most of these guys would have ever gone, so I offered to buy a round to keep them engaged. Obviously, I like getting people out of their comfort zones.
Speaking of, a very hot, black go-go god got up on the box. I convinced a few friends to go tip him after I did. When the guy in the group who was most uncomfortable in this situation, 1der Twin (his brother, 2der Twin was not present), got up to go to the bathroom, a light bulb went off in my head.
|"Oh my god! Is that REAL?!"|
“Let’s get 1der Twin a lap dance! I’m putting in $10 to see this shit. Who’s in?”
Having collected $30, I ran over to the go-go god just as he was getting off his box. He enthusiastically agreed.
1der Twin (arriving back from the bathroom): “I think I’m gonna head out guys.”
Me: “Oh… oh no. You can’t.”
1der Twin: “Uh, why not?”
Me (waving wildly to the go-go behind 1der’s back): “Because… uh… because I want you to do a shot with me! My treat!”
1der Twin: “I guess. Since it’s your birthday.”
1der Twin just happened to be standing in front of a vacant bar stool (with a back on it), so when Mr. Go-Go walked up and pushed him down into it, there was nowhere for him to run. 1der Twin’s face went from shock to horror to blissful grin, and the latter expression remained for almost 10 minutes during his lap dance. I swear that go-go made more in tips from us than our initial offer.
And then the go-go god moved on to me. You know I was ready!
|happy birthday to me...|
Did I mention Rihanna’s not the only one with cakes? Yeah.