‘Frenchies’ | the.applied.process.

16.09.2011

Everybody’s Working for the Weekend

“Everybody’s workin’ for the weekend, everybody wants a new romance. Everybody’s goin’ off the deep end, everybody needs a second chance”.

As I stated, I left DJ’s very excited to finally get a weekend sans boys to catch some breath and spend some time with my other neglected friends. As soon as I got home from the East Village, I got ready for work and biked across the exhausting Williamsburg bridge and into SoHo. I spent the day at work writing on the blog and making plans for future travels with ‘The Lady of Derbishire’. That evening, we left work and went to the Alex Katz opening at Gavin Brown. Openings are somewhat funny to me, just like the fashion industry, the art world is filled with interesting characters and it’s always fun to go to these places and people watch. We stayed for about an hour and then ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ left with a friend for dinner, and I went to one of the Greeks’ apartment to wait for ‘Jose Maria’ and go to dinner ensemble.

The Greeks had decided to try Fatty Crab. It was a Saturday night and we knew that everywhere we went would have a massive wait, so I jokingly suggested Chipotle. My fast food Mexican suggestion got vetoed promptly. I suggested that if we did do Fatty Crab, we try the one in the Upper West Side which is usually pretty relaxed and not crazy busy. I called the restaurant to make sure we’d get a table before we took a cab all the way up there. I was told that at the most we’d wait 20 minutes, so off we went to unfamiliar territories. One of the Greeks joked: “The Upper West Side is the new hip Saturday night spot”. I felt slightly more like a local, having bypassed the usual and tiring spots/neighborhoods for something much nicer, less crowded, and very understated.

As promised, we were seated promptly. Me and ‘Jose Maria’, being the two Fatty Crab veterans, ordered all the dishes for our virgin friend. On the menu: steamed veggie and pork buns, charred squid, the malay fish fry, two of the daily specials (one shrimp, one fish), some meat dish (which I didn’t partake in), and a healthy lesson in what it means to be gay (or really, just yourself) in New York. Dinner was delicious, as always, the conversation went smoothly, not because my poor Greek friend took it well, but because he is sort of a ditz and it all went right over his head. It was like feeding pearls to the swine, but even though I’m a pescatarian, I sill like my bacon.

After dinner I suggested we go to Hell’s Kitchen for some atypical gay bar fun. Next time I suggest such thing, please shoot me. We were absolutely miserable. I forgot why we never go above the 20’s. A drink’s time is as much as we could all handle, so we left and decided to go 180 degrees from there and into The Eagle. Again, it was going from one extreme to the other, one that I much prefer, but still find equally taxing. I don’t like these niche gays and their niche bars. This time, we stayed for twice as long: two drinks.

Looking to redeem the evening we cabbed it to “church” for my third night in a row. One of the Greeks left, ‘Jose Maria’ tagged along. He was outside smoking a cigarette when I went in to sneak a peak. It was a bit too much, and I was already quite tired and drunk so I went back outside and told him I was just going home. He asked me to chaperone him to Boiler Room where he had some unfinished business with two of his suitors. I reluctantly did because I couldn’t find a cab. After dropping him off, I went outside to have a cigarette, look for a taxi, and managed to hop in a car with two people going to Brooklyn. They dropped me off a few blocks away, I gave them 5 dollars, and I walked home to my lovely dog. My much needed time alone had finally come.

Sunday morning I got to work on time, surprisingly. I was blissfully excited all day and counting the nanoseconds till the True Blood season finale that night. I decided to invite people over for a finale party. Right after work I rushed home, cleaned up my somewhat messy apartment and waited for my guests. Only two people showed up (‘Fixie’ and ‘The Cock of the North’s’ wife), which was quite comfortable and nice. We played the second to last episode and sipped on some Red as we ate some deli sandwiches and discussed the season’s highlights. Once 9 pm hit, the room went silent for a somewhat disappointing hour. The episode was not what I expected, regardless we enjoyed it extensively.

After the post finale wrap up, ‘The Cock of the North’s’ wife left. Me and ‘Fixie’ went out for a few drinks at The Woods where one of the Frenchies was having his farewell cocktails. I didn’t really want to go because I rarely have fun and also I knew he’d just broken up with his ex (as expected by every single person who knows them), and I wasn’t in the mood to hear all the bullshit that comes with that. Regardless, a pickleback or two sounded good. After filling our quota we left and walked to The Abbey for a few more rounds. I was expecting to run into ‘Nickle’ who had just gotten back from his weekend wedding trip in Montauk, but he was still in the city with his best friend. Me and ‘Fixie’ were tired and headed back home to rewatch the season finale. He didn’t last long. I stayed up for a bit longer texting with ‘Nickle’ who ended up coming over after he got back to Brooklyn and stopped by The Abbey to say hi to his friend. I suppose my boy free wedding was over.

“You want a piece of my heart? you better start from start. You wanna be in the show? come on baby, let’s go!”

19.07.2011

Fags, stags, and drags.

This week has been very eventful, to say the least. It all started last Friday with the arrival of my friend ‘Buck’. He’s one of my old friends who I hadn’t seen in about 3 or 4 years. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I knew he was staying with his friend so I figured I probably would see him a few times for drinks and that’s it. Boy was I wrong.

To my fantastic surprise, he stopped by my work. I screamed his name and gave him a giant hug. The thing about friends like him, is that it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time you’ve seen each other, it feels like it was only a few hours ago. I was supposed to hang out with ‘Tiny Narcissus’ that night as it was his second before last night in the city, but to be honest, I was tired of the same old gay shit so I decided to plan a straight night. I was going to show ‘Buck’ a proper Billyburg hipster time. We decided to meet at my place for drinks that evening and then go get more drinks around the hood.

Work resumed and I headed home. ‘Buck’ showed up with a couple of his friends and a couple of my friends did so too. The madness started. Shots were shot. Drinks were drank. Smokes were smoked (at least by some of us). First, we hit Union Pool. Normally this is not my bar of choice, but if someone was to do an anthropological study of Williamsburg, Union Pool would be their best bet at capturing the essence of this part of town. Also, it is one of the two places that come to mind to find some tail for a fellow handsome single stag. The other place for that would be The Woods, where we proceeded to go after. I introduced the crowd to the fantastic ‘picklebacks’ (a shot of whiskey chased with a shot of pickle juice… trust me, they’re good). Drank. Danced. Devoured some tacos. All sloshed up we stumbled to our final destination: Lucky Dog. The night gets blurry but I’m assuming we drank more and somehow we ended up home.

Saturday I worked. After work I hurried home, fed the dog, walked the dog, napped, and cabbed it back to the lower east side. I met some friends at Freeman’s for ‘Tiny Narcissus’s’ going away dinner. I was feeling a bit off after the nap. The Greeks took a bit to get there but finally by 9 o’clock we were seated and ordering drinks. Freeman’s is good, but I’m starting to realize not my place of choice. The food is heavy and for some reason I’ve been feeling somewhat orthorexic lately. Regardless, ‘Tiny Narcissus’ gets to decide what we do and I get to follow gladly, it’s not everyday someone leaves this beautiful city to potentially not come back.

I have to say I was a bit annoyed during the dinner. The combination of waking up from the nap, being in company of a couple of annoying Greek QUEENS (and I CANNOT stress that enough), being somewhat left out due to the impolite use of a language I do not speak, and my cellphone being dead had me getting up every few minutes and smoking a ciggy and catching some air.

After dinner I made the executive decision of going to chez Frenchies for a quick drink before ending up at sugarland (per Tiny Narcissus’ request). At said apartment, I was promptly spotted (and hunted) by a very French gentleman who we’ll call ‘Sandpaper’. We talked, smoked, and drank some more. We split ourselves in groups and cabbed it to Brooklyn. On the way there, ‘Sandpaper’ could not keep his hands off me. I was being coy and ladylike despite the fact I knew I was going to eat his face as soon as we got to sugarland. I hurried home, dropped my stuff and waited for ‘Buck’ to come meet, and we headed back to my facial peel.

As soon as I got back to la terre de sucre I hunted down ‘Sandpaper’ and proceeded to give myself an exfoliating make out session. ‘Sandpaper’ was scruffy, hence the nickname, and so am I. Honestly, there’s nothing sexier than the abrasion created by two somewhat bearded men rubbing their scruff together as they kiss. I had told him I wasn’t gonna have sex, but somehow after close to two hours of almost nonstop kissing, we ended up at my place. My friends followed. We bid our guests good night and headed to the bed room. More making out. If I hadn’t been that drunk, the raw pain on my chin certainly would’ve stopped me from continuing to fiercely kiss him. My inhibitions and judgement were not in bed with me and I was ready to potentially fuck him… then he said: “you said no sex”, and went to bed. I enjoyed this.

The next morning we did some more kissing and a couple of hand jobs. We joined the party in the living room and all headed for brunch. I am not very well versed in French etrickquette (yes, my own word) so I wasn’t sure what to expect, but he asked me to invite him for coffee back at my apartment. I offered tea. ‘Buck’s’ friends were meeting us for a quick stroll down the Brooklyn Flea Market and then a trip to the alleged best pizza in New York. ‘Sandpaper’ didn’t even finish his tea so we said goodbye and decided to meet again. He’s not necessarily my type, but he is a persistent motherfucker, and honestly, persistence pays. I’ve seen him a couple of times since.

The Brooklyn Flea Market was uneventful. The pizza quest took about an hour, and although it was REALLY good, I can’t say it’s the best. It was too heavy and shiny (greasy) for my orthorexic taste. After feeling like a beached whale, we spontaneously decided to go to Conney Island. I’d never been and I’ll probably won’t go back for a long time. It is a scary place. The lower income bracket does not appreciate me, and although I try to, it’s hard to have empathy for those who don’t have it for me. Regardless, I had fun. Rode some rides, played some games, rode more rides. We were supposed to go to the Gansevoort that night and possibly Le Bain, but my little princesses required a shower and fresh clothes so we nixed that and drank local. If you want to know what happened just scroll back and reread the third paragraph. The night was somewhat familiar exchanging The Woods for Metropolitan. Nights on autopilot.

08.07.2011

NY NY NY NY NY NY NY

It’s been exactly 7 days since I’ve been back. I figured that rather than posting constantly about every single day, while in New York I’m gonna post once or twice a week, unless something truly exceptional happens. I’m not saying I don’t have quite the exceptional life, I do, I love it, I enjoy it, I don’t want to change it, but I’d hate to sound repetitive and predictive: yes, I went out again tonight and got drunk and crazy… how many times do we want to read that? Without further ado I will try to write a recap on my first week back home to the best of my blurry mind’s abilities.

I landed last Friday. As soon as I did I started texting people. I had dinner plans within minutes, so I took a cab home, and called ‘Freckles’ to let me in to my own apartment. ‘Freckles’ is my friend who’d been house sitting for me. I walked my exceptionally graceful dog who is an amazing traveler to have him pee after holding it in for 6 or 7 hours, and went upstairs. I was in dire need of a shower, so after a brief catching up I did so. Then, we headed to ‘Pulino’s’ to meet up with my other friend ‘Jose Maria’ and one of my coworkers. The whole time I’d been texting with ‘Latin T’ I thought I liked. He was in the neighborhood and decided to meet up with us for a drink.

After Pulino’s we headed for more drinks at a few bars in the East Village. Nothing really different or out of the ordinary. I was ecstatically happy to be back. Summer nights in New York HAVE to be the best place in the world. It’s warm and everybody’s walking around almost naked and enjoying the weather. Us New Yorkers put up with the winters and the summer days for the few hours of summer nights we get. ‘Latin T’ decided to kiss me. It felt nice. He was very forward but in a cute way. I didn’t mind. I felt like I could play the roll of “average fag in love for the night” for the night. We were holding hands, kissing, hugging, basically making my friends wonder who the fuck had gotten back from Europe and what did he do with the real me. ‘Latin T’ asked me to come home with me. I politely declined. I wasn’t feeling it for a couple of reasons. To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I felt about him but I was intrigued to find out, so I decided not to fuck it up and explore my new found Latinophilia for the next few days. I ended up passing out at around 4 or 5 in the morning, I think.

Saturday was my first day back at work. I was very excited to come back. I was somewhat dreading all the catching up I’d have to do, mostly for my own crazy reasons because I’m sure it wouldn’t be that big of an issue if I just didn’t get up to speed and just started fresh, but that’s not me. I’m obsessive compulsive. It was nice to be welcomed back with open arms and blank stares (the beard was gone). That day was ‘The Cock of the North’s’ birthday. I had gotten him a really nice present that I was sure he’d love. When he opened it, he was happier than a sick child who’d just received news of his new kidney after life riskingly waiting for a transplant. As expected, we went over to his house after work and celebrated his day. We had some cocktails and then went to a bar. It was a nice chill night at first. Then, my other friend ‘Afterline’ suggested we go to an after-party at Le Bain for a quick late night dip in the hot tub. I wanted to loyally stay and hang out with ‘The Cock of the North’, but I also felt guilt tripped into going, and I knew it was gonna be fun regardless, so a posse of about 10 of us ended at the rooftop of The Standard getting even more intoxicated and eventually wetting our underpants. I got home pretty late/early.

Sunday was a chill day. Me, ‘Freckles’, and ‘Jose Maria’ went for a late brunch at a tiny tapas bar in the village. The food was delicious, the sangria was smooth, and the atmosphere was just right. They kept playing old school Shakira and Mana for my nostalgic Mexican ear’s delight. Another friend, ‘Occhio’, joined towards the end. We left and headed back to mine for more drinks and board games. Later that night, we ended up at the Gansevoort rooftop for a gay party. I wanted to see the DJ, he’s an old ‘friend’ who I’ve fooled around a handful of times. He was nice and charming as always and greeted me with a peck. We didn’t stay long. We went to Le Bain to show ‘Freckles’ the view. Again, somehow we all ended up in the pool. She did so topless claiming she didn’t want to get her bra wet, but if you ask me, that’s just her excuse. She’s a flirt, and why not, she’s beautiful. If I was her, I’d be butt naked. I think I kissed a guy while inside the hot tub. They night just got blurrier, but some how I was sober enough to have a very intense conversation with ‘Freckles’ when we got back to mine. We passed out at 7am.

Monday was 4th of July. We didn’t have set plans, but me being the usual leader of the pack decided to have people over, head to the park, get drunk, and then find a rooftop to look at some fireworks. Prior to that tho, I met up with my old roommate from community college and her man. I persuaded them into having a pop burger and hoped they would prefer it over in-n-out. Us New Yorkers desperately try and find a substitute, but sadly there is none. West Coast, you can have this one.

I took them to the highline. We walked for a bit and then headed back to Billyburg. We stopped by my place, picked up my pooch, and headed to ‘Lucky Dog’ for a quick beer before the park. At about 5pm we were finally sitting at McCarren indulging on outlaw vodka, and chips and guac. There were about 10 of us and the group just kept getting bigger. ‘Latin T’ joined us with his friend and so did my fellow Frenchies who are dating each other. More food. More drinks. More boardgames. So far a successful 4th of July.

That evening, we walked to my friend’s apartment further down into Williamsburg to go to his rooftop party and watch the fireworks. I was very drunk by that point, and I’m sure my friends were too. The fireworks were nice, but they would’ve been nicer sober. ‘Latin T’ left without saying goodbye which got me weirded out a bit. I was too drunk to stay out so I stumbled home and passed out before midnight. My dehydrated body woke me up a bit before 3 in the morning. I decided I’d text my friends and see if they were out. They weren’t. Having slept a few hours, I was sleepless and opted to go to ‘Metropolitan’ for last call by myself. I met a random Domincan Republic man who proceeded to hit on me with his unintelligible “Spanish”. I let him buy me my last drink, left the bar, skyped a bit, and went to bed.

Tuesday was wasted on recovering. I had errands to run but was too lazy to do so. ‘Freckles’ went back home. I stayed in and watched a bootleg movie. I met ‘Latin T’ for a drink as we had planned, and then we had dinner. It was supposed to be a date but two of his friends were there. He’d just been fired and needed friendly support. After dinner, he suggested we go back to mine and watch a movie. I agreed, but told him I had to go meet ‘Jose Maria’ who was having some boy issues later that night. To be honest, I am not certain how I feel about him yet so I’m being evasive and taking it slow. We cuddled while laying on my couch. It was nice. He left at about 11:30 and I headed to the east village to meet up with ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Tiny Narcissus’. We had a couple of drinks and somehow ended up at Le Bain, yet again. Inebriated, I kissed ‘Tiny Narcissus’ and after unsuccessful attempts of getting them in the hot tub, I went in by myself. Nothing new here. Went home drunk.

Wednesday I actually did run my errands although first I met up with ‘Afterline’ and a boy he had just met at school that morning. We did a nice brunch and then a beer and a game of scrabble. I kicked both their asses. How’s that for ESL? Then ‘Latin T’ came over to print some stuff. It was slightly awkward, but I’m not sure why. After he left I finished some of the many things I had to accomplish, and met up with ‘Tiny Narcissus’ and his friend for dinner. I had a bit of Greek overload that night. ‘Jose Maria’, my Greek answer to the common Greeks, caught up with us at Eastern Bloc. I kissed a certain someone I’ve talked about that I hadn’t kissed in a while. It felt good and validating. I still have it. I left horny and went to sleep.

Thursday I worked. We have a new intern, she’s nice but not as obsessive compulsive as I am and hence a bit slow (in my book). I really have to learn to accept the more sane humans I share this planet with. After work I went to the boonies of Brooklyn to meet up with ‘Jose Maria’ for a BBQ. Although I was starving, I politely declined all food passed in front of me because despite the fact that they were courteous enough to think about us sensiblevores (yes, I made that word up), they were not conscious enough to fully separate the meat from the non meat items. I can’t deal with my faux meat touching something that had once a face. His friends were nice. I randomly talked to a guy who went to med school with one of my best friends in junior high. How unbe*fucking*lievable small is this damn planet?! I can never get over that.

We all played Cranium, which was very slow and interesting considering the smorgasbord of racial backgrounds and nationalities we had going. The lesser adept gave up and went home. We continued playing, and my team lost. Me and ‘Jose Maria’ were supposed to go meet ‘Tiny Narcissus’ and some other friends at Le Bain, but I was tired and lazy and did not feel like doing the usual yet another night. Ironically enough, I ended up at Metropolitan. I met some handsome half Spanish half Irish thirtysomething and made out with him for the rest of the night. Two interesting things happened: he left for a second and asked me to take care of his drink, but when he came back, he apologized and said he didn’t trust drinking out of it so he got a new one. The other thing was that he seemed ok and not pushy at all when I let him know I was not going home with him. I think we both enjoyed the slight differences exhibited from the accustomed New York homosexual interaction. I felt a bit bad for ‘Jose Maria’. Whether he admits it or not, I felt he was a bit annoyed, and why not, I probably would too. I left my Spanish conquistador and headed home. You know the rest.

Today I worked. It was a slow day. It took me the whole day, on and off, to finish this entry, but I feel good about it. I like this new approach. My closing thoughts? Like I said, I’m not sure how I feel about ‘Latin T’. He’s very nice and I find myself randomly thinking about him throughout the day and looking at my phone for signs of interest, yet at the same time there’s something slightly off, something missing. I enjoy being single. I also enjoy having a boy around. There’s an interesting dichotomy here, when you have someone circumventing you, you tend to attract more and more suitors. I’d love to know the chemistry behind this, or maybe it’s just pure coincidence. Either way, I’m not stressing about it. Like I’ve stated, I’m taking it slow, exploring my options, enjoying my time. Today was also SF boy’s birthday. I wished him a happy birthday via Facebook, per my religious habits. He hasn’t responded, nor will he. It doesn’t matter, I woke up in such a great mood, and my day has been getting strangely better and better. An old friend, ‘Buck’, is in town. He stopped by the gallery. We’re going for drinks later. I was meant to go to the Chelsea Hotel for ‘Tiny Narcissus’s’ second to last night, but to be honest, it’s been a delightfully atypical day, and I want it to turn into an even more delightfully atypical night. Tonight I’m playing it straight.