Le Bain | the.applied.process.

10.09.2011

Right as Rain

“Who wants to be right as rain it’s better when something is wrong. You get excitement in your bones and everything you do is a game. When night comes and your on your own you can say i chose to be alone. Who wants to be right as rain it’s harder when you’re on top.”

Tuesday night I had a date with ‘Nickle’. We decided to meet at Fatty Crab because it’s one of my favorite restaurants, he’s never been, and it’s such an atypical date spot (very messy, hands-on, stinky southeast Asian cuisine) that I’d been wanting to take someone there. I’d been getting in date mode lately so after a good session of bikram, I showered, dressed up trendy, yet classic with a denim shirt, caramel leather belt, black skinny jeans, and chucks (yes, that’s me actually meticulously dressing up for a purpose), and smoked a cigarette as I waited for him to pick me up at 9pm outside my apartment.

Upon his arrival I noticed he too had taken the time to dig out the cologne from the back of the bathroom cabinet and iron his shirt, which he paired with some fitting blue jeans, and some purposely scuffed brown leather boots. He greeted me with a kiss and stated “I didn’t bring you flowers but I brought you…” as he handed me a bouquet of my personal favorite sour candy. He was aware I preferred sour over any other type of sweets, but not that this specific kind were my Kryptonite. I promptly digitally documented his deed and uploaded it to facebook. We took a train to the meatpacking.

The meal was very pleasant to say the least. The food? delicious, the conversation? effortless, the man? an absolute gentleman. He kept yearningly admiring me with such an honest stare that I felt both marveled at and respectfully undressed. Upon the end of dinner, the cavalier refused to take my card and paid for the more-expensive-than-average check. If I had known, I wouldn’t have ordered that second cocktail. I took this opportunity to suggest we grab a drink after since I felt somewhat in debt. He obliged.

I took my paramour a couple blocks away to Le Bain. To his expected unimpressed eyes, I had us breeze through the crowd and skip the line. Despite admitting to have wondered about it after watching the structure being erect over the highline, he’d never been to the rooftop before. It was the perfect continuation to an ideally perfect evening. We consumed a few libations, discussed New York architecture, and introduced him to a few familiar faces who later jealously congratulated me for my envious catch. We left after two drinks and took the train home. The plan was for the evening to come to a close but we spontaneously decided to get off at 1st ave and walk to Phoenix for the alleged last night it was to be open before its new Lesbian owner turned it into a lezzy irish pub (so the rumor says).

We didn’t stay long either. A drink later we were back on the street walking towards the subway. As a rule of thumb, I try and avoid the trains after 11:30 pm because they can take long enough for my usually inebriated patience to sit and wait. Luckily, that was not the case. We got off at our Brooklyn stop and walked past the bar we usually go to. We ran into a couple of his friends and decided to join for last last call. The boy and the girl aforementioned both took me aside separately and questioned my intentions with their friend. They stated the obvious: he’s a nice guy, he really likes me, they haven’t seen him this happy about someone in a while. I responded in agreement to everything they said: he’s a nice guy and I do enjoy the time we’ve spent together. After a couple more drunken interrogations from his keepers me and ‘Nickle’ parted ways. I had to work. He had to wake up in a couple hours and drive upstate.

Wednesday morning I woke up excited for work. It was the first time in a month that my boss, ‘The Cock of the North’, was back from vacation and I was excited to see him again. The man is more of a friend than an employer. Work went by relatively fast. I went home, did my usual 30 minute post-work duties and headed back to the city for dinner with friends at Buvette in the West Village. Despite all of us being utterly late, we enjoyed the evening. I often fail to notice, but I am pleasantly surprised how I am often the common denominator in these gatherings. All the people there know each other and casually hang out, but originally they met through me.

After dinner I left them and went to my Wednesday midnight mass. The night was methodical: same faces, same routines, same ending. I do not mind it, in fact, it’s part of the reason why I’ve made it part of my weekly schedule.

I ended up at The Cock with DJ & co. and later DJ & I ended up leaving together. Again, somewhat methodical: no sex, no fooling around, just plain cuddling. We did have a very interesting conversation about “out relationship” as he put it. Turns out, we’re both on the same page. I mentioned my date with ‘Nickle’ from the night before and running into ‘Handsome Wednesday’, he mentioned a similar instance with a hurricane Irene date. We teased each other and uttered the word ‘Paranoid’ to one another and went to bed.

Thursday morning I hurried home, took a shower, gossiped a bit with ‘Freckles’ (who’d been staying at my place) about my night with DJ and went to work. The usual.

My plans for the night were reserved for ‘Freckles’. We did yoga together for the first time, took showers, ate some food I made, and met up with ‘John G’ for some cocktails at Metro. I spent most of my evening impolitely talking to friends I ran into, but at the same time, my two add-ons were chatting with each other so I didn’t feel that rude. A long ago hook up, ‘Big Clay’, was there sans boyfriend. We talked for a while as I watched him getting progressively more incoherent. He’s known to be a bit of a lush and a big time drinker. ‘John G’ went home, me, ‘Freckles’, and ‘Big Clay’ left for Union Pool as I had promised her I’d take her somewhere straight so she could forget about her recent fall out with her beau. We ordered more drinks which only aided in making ‘Big Clay’ pretend to be bi for the rest of the night. He continuously kept hitting on ‘Freckles’ and then on me. I have to admit that although I am not attracted to ‘Big Clay’, there is still that feeling of “the one that got away” every time I see him. I know it’s pointless and I don’t encourage it but, for some reason back when I was younger, I really liked him. Maybe it is the fact that I was young and less jaded and fell for anything that would give me head. We decided to call it a night and walk home.

My “been partying for a few years now” self is not as patient as it used to be so despite the fact that I noticed ‘Big Clay’ stumbling his way home I was determined to go to sleep. Being an alcoholic myself I am quite confident in others’ ability to find their way back; ‘Freckles’, on the other hand, didn’t seem as certain and, after watching him ring on two doorbells right next to the bar and squint to try and make up if either of these was his apartment, suggested we take him home. I unwillingly obliged so we hailed a cab and dropped him at the corner of his block. Again, she didn’t believe he could make it so she got out of the cab and walked him home. I am aware of the dangers that come with leaving completely plastered people out to fend for themselves, but sometimes they need it. I finally caught some Z’s well past 4am.

Friday work. Still not being used to people paying for me whilst on a date, I had told ‘Nickle’ I’d take him out tonight my treat. The plan was to end at Momofuku, but he first suggested I meet him at a bar near Astor Place where his friend was working. While I do enjoy all the perks that have come with this new found relationship, I’m beginning to think that he might be a bit too much of a drinker, which would not be a problem, except I am too. And while this is all fun and he’s by no means an aggressive drunk, he sometimes is a bit sloppy. Regardless, I was thirsty and I did as instructed. Anxiety. Four or six drink/shots later, we left his friends and walked to the restaurant. No luck, it was packed. He suggested we walk to a noodle house he said he’d been to before instead and we ended up twirling and twisting ropes of doughy goodness on our chopsticks and into our bellies. Whether he had planned for this or not I am not sure, but my time to pay for dinner ended up being significantly cheaper than his, which I wasn’t too happy about.

We went for a nightcap at Phoenix then, strangely enough, to Ten Degrees. Anxiety. We tried taking the train but it was out of service so we hopped on a yellow cab back to my place. Apparently, I passed out of his lap on the way home. I also lost my phone, which I didn’t realize at the moment, but did so the next morning. We fooled around in my living room not caring that ‘Freckles’ might be coming back from her date any time. I switched to this recent Machiavellian mood that I’ve been having and proceeded to indulge in the idolization I was receiving. After I had my fix, I suggested we go to bed and sleep, and did so almost immediately but not before we fooled around a bit more. I am not certain for how long, but I do remember hearing ‘Freckles’ come home.

The next morning we finished what we had started. I enjoy the fact that this man has a very sexual appetite in the mornings because I usually do too. He started fondling my genitals till I finally woke up from my half asleep state and reciprocated. I came first, he followed. He’s noticeably loud when he does. I giggled at the thought of ‘Freckles’ hearing us not because I mind, but because she might find it funny. We walked our naked asses to the shower and washed away the gunk that covered our abdomens. We all had brunch at a spot a couple blocks away. Right after, he went his own way, and I started my long list of tasks before I left for California later that night.

I’m enjoying these two “relationships” that have sprung up on me. I am treading carefully. I am taking everything and everyone with a grain of salt. I am not letting myself get carried away by the same dumb emotions many seek and let themselves be blinded by. I am proving to myself and others two things: that while LOVE might actually exist, it is harder to find than we’d like to admit, and most of us never truly do find it, so why bother? And also that this whole idea of having to end up with someone in order to have an accomplished life is ridiculously outdated. I refuse to give in.

“Who wants to be riding high when you’ll just crumble back on down. You give up everything you are and even then you don’t get far. They make believe that everything is exactly what it seems, but at least when you’re at your worst you know how to feel things.”

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24.08.2011

Where I’m going…

“Take my hand if you know where I’m going through, take my hand if you know where I’m going”. The blog keeps taking better form as the days go by. Today I will, as usual, talk about the past few days which have, just like the blog, been taking better form.

Sunday I started to work all by my lonesome self. The day was going slow until my good ol’ friend ‘Occhio’ showed up with sour candy (a personal addiction of mine). He very often visits which is why I’ve given myself the liberty to bestow upon him the title of “Unofficial Honorary Intern”. There wasn’t much to be accomplished that day so we just hung out, skyped with ‘Jose Maria’, and caught up. I haven’t been hanging out with him as much as I used to.

After work I went home and he went to hang out with his other friends. I didn’t have many plans for the night ahead other than watching True Blood, but an acquaintance of mine (‘Jay & F) who I had sex with a while back texted me saying it was his last night in town and he was going to Gansevoort. I told him I’d meet him there. I texted a couple of friends and hopped on the L towards the meatpacking. The party was not very happening. The boys were not my taste. My mood wasn’t exactly the best.

I ordered a drink and searched for ‘Jay & F’. He didn’t seem as friendly as I had expected, maybe he had that bit of post coitum awkwardness still lingering around. To be honest, I didn’t think much of the time we had sex. We were drunk and that was it, I’m not really into him nor was I at the time, but maybe for him it was different. He IS a bit younger, and he acts more like your average gay. I pretended not to notice and proceeded to talk to him and introduce myself to his friends, all Chelsea boys. They were all a bit stand offish. I suppose that is the case when they meet a fag who doesn’t share their aesthetic beliefs of “perfect” ripped bodies, and thorough manscaping. One of his friends, an Asian gay of deceiving age who happened to work with ‘John G’, kept hitting on me and touching my lips over and over saying they were amazing. I acted evasively coy.

I texted ‘ John G’ to see if he was coming. He said he was on his way and would arrive in half hour. We all ordered more drinks, I smoked (none of them did), and we talked more about what we did and where we lived. Again, God forbid the socialize with anyone living east of Union Square, north of 59th, and south of the numbered streets. They all finished their drinks and left. I smoked another cigarette and waited for my friend.

Lately, I’ve been enjoying more and more ‘John G’s’ new outlook on life. He used to be way more negative and antisocial. I attribute most of his recent change to his new job. I think he was miserable in previous work environments. We talked about Grindr, and how he’s now on it and enjoying the good and the bad that comes from it. I reassured him that, as long as he’s smart about it, it’s a fun way to meet guys whether they end up being friends, fucks, or life partners. One last drink and we were out. He wanted to go to Cielo and, although I was a bit skeptical due to my first bad impression of the place (see previous post about my crazy night at ACE hotel), I agreed. I’m all about not letting bad experiences leave me with sour tastes.

Cielo was stupid. We paid a five dollar cover and it was somewhat empty. We ordered a drink and danced for a bit. I was somewhat drunk. I spotted a cute boy who I decided I’d talk to. He turned out to be German, what do you know? He wasn’t interested. I was a tiny bit. I didn’t want to drink more and was looking forward to my bed so I suggested we have a last drink and go home (my way of saying: “hey, I’m bored, but I’m wasted so let’s grab one before we hit the road”, usually this goes way better than being: “let’s leave”). I chugged the diluted concoction and headed for the door.

On our way to the train we thought of the magnificent idea of getting some taco bell to reminisce our Southern California days (that’s where we met). We walked all the way to Union Square but it was closed. I guess we forgot we weren’t actually in California. He asked if I wanted to go to another bar, but I politely declined and hopped on the train back to apartment. Time to cuddle with the pup.

Monday I did nothing for most of the day. I relaxed and had a chain smoking, pup cuddling, Mad Men marathon. I made some delicious pasta with fake meat sauce and mozzarella sticks. I texted a bit with DJ and mentioned I might be going out in his neighborhood later that night. I took a nap and woke up around 7. In a moment of pure drive, I decided to start doing yoga again. I got in my skimpy dolphin shorts, flip flops, and tee, swung my mat across my shoulder, and walked to my old studio. Note to self: DO NOT EVER stop doing yoga on a regular basis. I almost died. It was not unbelievably hot or anything in particular, but I suppose I was really out of shape. For the first time ever, I felt dizzy, had tunnel vision, and took a break between poses. Somehow I survived and rushed home to watch the A-List.

A friend of mine who bartends at Phoenix had suggested I stop by because the bar is closing soon and I haven’t seen him in a while. I skipped the A-List, showered, and headed to the East Village. The bar was kind of empty but nice. I ordered a drink, he gave me a shot and a beer. I ordered another drink, he gave me another beer and another shot. I was pretty drunk. I met some familiar faces and some short guy, ‘Claude’, who looked very much like my friend’s ex (except my friend’s ex is straight and lives in LA). We started talking and he asked me if I wanted to go with him to Eastern Bloc. I hadn’t talked to DJ, and I didn’t really feel like going there with someone else because I know a lot of the people there and I just wasn’t comfortable, but I did. The place was also empty. Saw a couple of familiar faces, ordered a drink, and got another one for free. ‘Handsome Wednesday’ was there. Coincidentally, he was talking to DJ on grindr. For a split second I wondered if they’d fuck. Just for a split second.

‘Claude’ suggested we go to a karaoke place and have a bottle of champagne he would buy. I agreed. We walked back towards Phoenix and ended at some tacky place I always see and wonder who actually goes there. Now I know. He knew the bartender. He asked for the bottle of “champagne”, which actually turned out to be really cheap Prosecco. We had a glass and he sang a song. He had a nice voice. I am not quite sure when the night took a wrong turn but somehow I ended up outside smoking a cigarette being lectured on my rudeness. Apparently, without my knowing, I was being impolite for going on Grindr (which I did when I was at Eastern Bloc talking to Handsome Wednesday looking for friends), and he was not going to sleep with me. I honestly missed the memo that said I was on a date and that I was planning on sleeping with him. I wasn’t opposed to it, but that was definitely not my intention. I left and sent him a message on Grindr (yes, he was on it too!) saying: “honestly you got me so wrong”.

Tuesday morning my dog cuddling, chain smoking, Mad Men marathon continued. My productive day started a bit earlier tho. I went to yoga at 4:30 pm. It was not as bad as the day before. After sweating my sins out I went home, made food, and continued my morning activities. DJ texted me saying he was in Brooklyn with his best friend biking and asked what I was doing. I replied: “to be honest, I’m naked laying in bed, smoking a cigarette, and watching Mad Men”. I wasn’t trying to be flirty. He asked if I wanted to join them and then maybe grab some food. I said yes, threw some clothes on my stinky, salty body, and went downstairs with my bike.

The ride was nice. We rode all the way to the water on the Greenpoint side and then back to Williamsburg for some delicious Mexican food at Mesa Coyoacan. To say they loved the food is a understatement. DJ’s friend already went for more today (according to Facebook). We rode back to my place where they dropped me off. Me and DJ kissed for a long time. I told him I’d text him later if I was in the city because I had plans to meet with a girl I went to elementary with later that night. I took a shower and off to Le Bain I went.

The Standard was packed. It was a The Blonds party which, frankly, I could care less. I met my “friend” there, she looked like what I would expect her 12 year old self to look 14 years older except for her voice, which was terribly similar to the way Mexico City Preppies talk. I guess I shouldn’t be THAT surprised, she does come from money, but she’d fled the country way before I did, so I expected her to be significantly more whitewashed than I am. Despite us never having a close relationship, she seemed very happy to see me. She was there with her friend who was, in fact, a Mexico City Preppy. We promptly exchanged stories, where we’ve been, what we’ve done, where we’re going. It was a nice encounter. I remember back in elementary I used to think she was really cool. It was satisfying to see that now it was the opposite. I stayed with them for two drinks’ time. I texted DJ to see if he was still up. He was. I asked if I should come over, he said: “yes but we’re only cuddling”. I am not sure how I felt about this but it seemed a bit odd. Last time we spent the night together he wasn’t his usual ass eating self, and now he was saying this?! I mean, I don’t mind it at all because half the time I’d rather cuddle than fool around. Less anxiety the morning after, but still… my worse case scenario self made me think there was something more severe. It turned out he’s just had a tummy ache for the past few days. I bid my new friend goodbye, and cabbed it to his place.

Upon arrival, we got naked and did just that: cuddle. It was short and sweet. We tried watching some TV but surprisingly enough I was sleepy without being wasted. We slept naked waking up a few times to switch spoon positions. I slept for 10 whole hours. What the fuck? is all I have to say about the night. It was nice but very different in all aspects. I woke up, he offered to make me food (eggs), but since I don’t partake in eating chicken fetuses, I thanked him and declined. I got dressed and walked to work.

I’m having a cigarette right now. I just got home from yoga. I’m going to take a shower and bike to get some sushi, and then to my usual Wednesday spot. Will I go home with him again? Honestly, I don’t know. That would be two nights in a row, and is that really where we are? I’m not going to think about it too much. Tomorrow I’m meeting ‘Fixie’ at my work so we can bike back to Brooklyn together for some dinner, drinks, and whatever else.

“Take my hand ’cause I know what you’re going through… Half the time I had no way of knowing…”

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20.07.2011

The more baths I take the dirtier I feel.

I’d been meaning to have a catch up day ever since I got back from Europe. A day to thoroughly clean my apartment, unpack, and rest properly. The latter trumped the rest. It was a lazy day indeed. I did manage to go to the city and do a little shopping for stuff I needed around the house. I wasn’t feeling much like going out that night either. Sometimes, I need my alone time. However, one thing led to another and me and ‘Buck’ ended up meeting a friend for drinks. The bar du jour isn’t my favorite by any means, but at the end of the day that’s beside the point. What really matters is the company and the price of the drinks.

We imbibed a couple of standard cocktails and left to our next destination. It was empty. We walked over to Lit Lounge and Home Sweet Home. The first was somewhat happening, the latter was quite barren so we decided to try Le Bain. ‘Buck’ had been wanting to check it out and I’d been meaning to take him so although it was a Monday night and it would most likely be empty, we weren’t looking to meet people, just enjoy the amazing view and maybe have a dip in the inside hot tub/pool. Sadly, tonight we’d have to stay dry. The place was closed.

Still itching for a drink or three we walked to the opposite corner to Hogs and Heifers of Coyote Ugly fame. The bar was also empty, but the cheery bartenders made it fun regardless. We didn’t stay long. We decided to try our luck at Cielo nearby. Being this the meatpacking district, we were asked for a 15 dollar cover, to which I politely declined, and, do not quote me on this one but, I believe we went home.

Tuesday I planned on stopping by work for a second. I ran some more errands. ‘Buck’ did his sight seeing. Later we all met with his friends at a celebrity owned restaurant in the UES for some trivia night. Naturally, we kicked ass. We raffled the three iPod nano’s we’d won, but I didn’t get one. After trivia, we went to have a quick drink at 2A for my friend’s birthday. We didn’t stay long, the plan was to drink cheap and then head to Le Bain (finally).

We breezed through the front door. I’ve become quite the regular so cues are not necessary. We rode the elevator up to the penthouse, out the dark corridor, and into the sleek noir interiors we went. The night hosted a drag/gay party. Naturally, a lot of your usual New York nouveau club kids were there, which only added to the already fantastic views of the New York skylines. It is a sight to be seen. We proceeded to buy an expensive watered down drink. I do not understand why, but as a vodka connoisseur, it baffles me that they try to hide well vodka in premium bottles. Who are they trying to kid?! I guess it doesn’t matter if you’re already drunk (which is usually the case). We strolled around for a bit, enjoyed more of the view, and went upstairs for more cockys and fags (I’m talking about drinks and cigarettes). Eventually, as expected, we ended up in the hot tub prancing around in our skivvies and getting into all sorts of trouble. I think I made out with a boy.

Wednesday I worked, worked, worked. I’m not sure what my other two partners in crime did, most likely sleep most of the day and bum around as you should when on vacation. I might be getting my days confused, but I’m sure that night we went back to the East Village. I can’t recall if something happened prior to my usual Wednesday hang out Eastern Bloc or not, but we stopped there for a couple of drinks. Said hi to some familiar faces (and cocks) and spared ‘Buck’ from yet another gay soiree by going back to Le Bain per his request.

I’d never been on a Wednesday and I’d heard it wasn’t the best night, but again, as long as I have the view, a cocktail, and a friend I’m ok with it. Getting in was no problem (again), despite the fact that there were people being turned down at the door. The place was not as packed as the previous night, but still fun. My inebriated “I can do anything” persona devised a plan to get us into Boom Boom Room next door. There is no pool there but it’s definitely a place to see, especially if you’re from out of town, you need the full “if I can make it here, I can make it anywhere” New York experience. The plan worked. The Room was empty, but again, we had some cocktails and made the best of it. I left my buddies around 3am when I decided I was tired and I didn’t really care to wait for them. I sometimes get like this when I drink. All I know is I got home safe, they did so as well, but opted to stay up watching movies and eating bagels till who knows when. I had work in a few hours.

In the morning I realized I’d received a ‘booty text’ from a certain DJ I’d fooled around a while ago. More on this in a bit.

Thursday was a long day. We had an opening at my job that night so I planned and packed my usual stand out attire for the evening and wore a tank top and jeans to work. The thing I love about my job is that there’s always something different and new to do, and Thursday just happened to have a bit of everything. I showed my true Mexican self by doing some manual work, my almost genius like intellect and problem solving abilities by doing a lot of brain work, and my alluring personality by socializing like a socialite on speed. The evening turned out great. A lot of my friends came by and so did a couple of cocks who’ve been either chasing me or I’ve been chasing.

After the opening, I went with one of my coworkers to grab some food, ran into one of the cocks and told him to meet me at the after party. We walked back to a bar around the corner for some ‘work drinks’. It wasn’t the usual after party. It was more toned down, but so was the opening so I guess it was fitting. The rest of my friends and the cock showed up. I felt slightly rude to some my guests all night because I couldn’t really spend much time chit chatting. I was working like a busy bee all night, and I’ve decided that comes first. I’m refocusing on making it in different aspects of my life and I do not need distractions. Me and my boss had our usual drunken work rants that I love. If all goes well, I see my future getting brighter, but I won’t say more, I don’t want to jinx it. After being somewhat ignored, the cock went home. The rest of my friends and I went back to Le Bain.

A friendly face was working the door. We breezed right through. Again, sorry to all the ones waiting in line, I was once one of you, although honestly I don’t know what it is but I’ve always been enchanting enough to be wanted in. The crowd was horrible. The Chelsea gays decided to migrate south for the evening. I skedaddled to Boom Boom and once inside proceeded to device a way of getting my posse in. I succeeded. There has been a bit of drama between a few of the attendees of the night. I hung around for a bit and observed people getting drunker and looser. After a blurry hour or so I received a message from DJ asking me to come over. Rather than doing my usual disappearing act and going home I said my goodbyes and left my party to their own demise and cabbed it to the East Village. My knight in shinny briefs was waiting for me. I undressed, we laid in bed and kissed. We fell asleep rather quick. The next morning we kissed some more and jacked off. He came, I didn’t. We bid farewell and looking like I did 12 hours ago I went to work. My boss giggled.

I didn’t stay long, just half the day. That evening I was to meet my current crush at his adult industry job and catch a buss to Atlantic City for a weekend I’m quite sure I’ll never forget. Without knowing, one of the last bastion of my guarded self was about to crumble down.

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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.

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Tag: Le Bain