it would just be cruel to leave myself clothed (Inauguration '13 Weekend, Part II)

Click here to check out Part I. 
 

On the morning afternoon of our 2^nd day in DC Bohoken and I decided on Hank's Oyster Bar on the 17th St strip for brunch. My “The Getaway” cocktail was a cool twist on a classic greyhound, but when I tasted Bohoken's bubbly “La Vie en Rose”, I had to switch. After brunch, we stopped by Level One for more bubbly drinks (unlimited til 4 for $16, even if you don't eat). It was relatively warm, so we camped out among the sidewalk tables, sharing our section with a group of rowdy girls.

yay gay!

After Level One cut off the unlimited drinks, Bohoken and I moseyed over to JRs (as is DC gay tradition in Sundays) for music videos and people watching. We drank our weight in vodka before heading to Agora for dinner (possibly my favorite place for octopus ever).

By the time we made it back to the hotel, I was ready to change, and Bohoken was ready to pass out. To be fair, we'd been out and drinking for a good 11 hours by then. I tucked him in and headed to The Green Lantern, a dive bar in an alley (literally) in DC’s equivalent of Midtown, to meet another friend from my New England past. Karaoke may or may not have been involved. From there, I weighed my options, concluding that the last couple of hours at Town would be the best use of my time.

Now, in my old age, I've been loathe to take my shirt off at a club. It just seems slightly desperate to me. Town, on the other hand, is one of those places where I see the shirtless talent and feel like it would just be cruel to leave myself clothed. But I still had my Russian army coat on. With less than an hour left before last call, I definitely didn't want to spend 10 minutes in line for coat check! So this happened.

the theme of the party was glitter or something.

Monday, I woke up around noon. Our hotel's website said something about charging the full rate for a late check-out, but a call to the front desk the night before got that waived. Bohoken and I did our usual check-out dance where he gets ready and heads to the front desk at 12:55 to check us out on time, and I run around frantically packing our stuff and trying to get myself presentable, finally leaving the room around 1:20.

Our brunch at Level One reminded me how much I loved the atmosphere and how blah the food is. But when they're refilling the mimosas every 5 minutes and playing one of the best old-school mixes you've ever heard (thank you DJ Madscience), the food will do.

The Inauguration ceremony was over by then, but I figured the important parts would be on YouTube in a matter of hours anyway. We caught close-captioned views of the parade (how cute was Malia and that necklace!) with some NYC friends upstairs at Cobalt and then killed time at JR's before our 8pm train (for some reason, Amtrak made us reschedule our mid-afternoon train). Everyone in DC must have been at that parade or getting ready for a ball because every place we went to on Monday was sparsely populated.

Most people, after a long weekend out of town, would head home and pass out after an 11pm Penn Station arrival. But I expected things to be slow at the day job on Tuesday. And there were a few Monday parties I had yet to check out.

Bohoken made his way home while I moseyed to Fairytale for Joey Israel's Cocktease: go-goes, music, lap dances. DJ Stereotype was giving me life with his tunes (2 great mixes in one day)! The go-goes were hot as hell, charging $20 for lap dances. And from what Joey told me from taking a few peeks behind the curtain, it was well worth patrons' money.

I’d been wavering for a while, but around 1, I decided that it was time to check out The Cock. Shameless McGreedy was bartending, and Matty Glitterati was DJing, so it had to be worth checking out! It was $5 to get in, and I discovered that I was maybe the 3^rd patron there. Shameless immediately poured a shot for himself, Glitterati and me, insisting that it was never this slow on a Monday.

i had to crop his bare ass out.

As it got later, more barflies joined the party, including a few boys who took advantage of the promise of free shots for being in their underwear. But what really turned the party was when Demanda Darling walked in, painted from collarbone to hairline, with her crew. Whatever they were on was kicking in because the go-goes weren’t the only ones on the bar! Between the music, the drinks and the spectacle going on at eye level, this party was well worth the inevitable Tuesday hangover.

Did I mention I can never leave the Cock before the lights turn on? Yeah.

 Click here to check out that one time when my NYC crew invaded DC's gay scene (what a fucking mess).