Montauk | the.applied.process.

Unison

“I thrive best hermit style with a beard and a pipe and a parrot on each side but now I can’t do this without you.”

Recently, ‘Bogo’ asked me if I’d like to work Monday to Fridays instead of Tuesdays to Saturdays. I have been running the pro’s and con’s of her suggestion over and over in my head and I still can’t figure out what I want to do. It’d be a great way of having a more “normal” schedule and having more weekend time with ‘Nickle’, or other friends, yet at the same time I really like working Saturdays. I like seeing ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ and my other coworker. I like being there half the weekend. I like having Mondays off so I can do whatever errands need to be accomplished and actually have the day to myself since ‘Nickle’ is at work, and the rest of the city is functioning at full speed. Still undecided, I told her I’d give it a try starting the next year.

The third Saturday of November I went to work as usual. I didn’t really want to be there and although I could’ve taken the day off, I decided not to. I did, however, leave early so I could meet ‘Nickle’, ‘Fixie’, and ‘Martha’ at my place to begin what was about to be a crazy night, it was The Abbey’s 14 year anniversary, and also one of my babe’s friend’s birthdays.

I got home before 6 pm and cleaned up a bit as I waited for my friends to arrive. The first one to come was ‘Martha’, we walked ‘Toto’ around the block for a bit, and then ‘Nickle’ showed up. We headed to The Abbey to commence the long night of drinking. I wanted to eat but I waited since I was promised there’d be good food at the bar. As expected, we started imbibing steady and heavily. Food did come after about 3 shot and beer combos, and I quickly proceeded to neutralize the alcohol with some substantial nutrients. It definitely helped. The night was off to a great start.

We stayed at The Abbey for longer than expected. A lot more friends ended up showing up. ‘Viquers’ and ‘Fixie’ had said they’d only come out for a bit but, after the alcohol kicked in, ‘Fixie’ was ready to rage. He texted asking me to help him sneak away from ‘Viquers’ who was sort of on baby sitting duty. Me and ‘Nickle’ went to the bodega on the corner to buy “cigarettes” and then told him to come meet us at mine with the excuse that he was picking up keys to stay there later. I told him to get in a cab with ‘Nickle’ and wait for me in the corner as I went back to The Abbey to explain to ‘Viquers’ that, because of the medication he was taking, he was loopy and passed out almost instantly. She believed my lie.

At around 10:30 pm we finally made it on our way to Park Slope for the remainder of the night.

The second leg of the evening was just as fun and just as drunk. I’d be lying if I tried to retell everything that happened. I was pretty forgetful by that point, but I do remember dancing to some sort of Latino music with one of the guys who lived in the apartment who was dressed as a Mariachi. I was also told me and ‘Nickle’ were making out profusely after we pranced around with different wigs, and we ended up drinking just like the Friday night before Montauk.

Sunday morning I was reminded I apparently got really drunk, a bit emotional, and blacked out. No harm done tho.

After the recap, we walked ‘Toto’, picked up some coffee, and took a shower/fooled around as ‘Fixie’ slept in the living room. We then all went for brunch across the street at El Almacen, an Argentinian restaurant with amazing lobster tacos and a dulce de leche french toast that I’d be willing to get a couple of cavities for. We nursed our hang overs with some margaritas and fernet.

For the rest of the day, we all had bike rides to accomplish. ‘Fixie’s’ included a date, and we had a very long one all around Brooklyn.

The first stop of the trip was at ‘Nickle’s’. We shared a coffee and donuts in his deck, picked up some stuff needed for the day, and rode bikes back past my place and to bedstuy. The second stop involved picking up some of his stuff his friend had borrowed a while ago and had left at another friend’s apartment. We didn’t stay for long, we still had a full day so we asked our hosts to come join us for dinner but, since they weren’t in the mood for it, we went our separate ways.

We rode over to ‘Judy’s’ apartment a short 5-10 minutes away. She’d just moved to a place off the Nostrand A train and had invited us to check it out. The apartment, sitting on the top story of a brownstone, was one to envy. For a second, it made me think of my future and where I’d want to live with ‘Nickle’, what I’m willing to sacrifice, and when did my convictions begun to change so drastically. My stomach made a growling sound and pinched me back to reality. We were hungry and we left to get some food.

I was having a bit of anxiety, nothing different from the usual. I kept trying to control it as we walked for 15 minutes to an Indian restaurant further into Brooklyn. The food was appropriate. I hadn’t ventured to eat Indian in a while because I was still holding on to the one time I was in Birmingham at ‘Capital-G’s’ mom’s place eating the most delicious home made Indian dishes I’ve ever had. Regardless, like much of the other things in my life, I decided to not be afraid and just give it a try.

After dinner, we walked ‘Judy’ back to her apartment and we got our bikes to continue on the last lap of the tour de Brooklyn. We biked south to south slope to ‘Ceviche Mama’s’ friend’s place to pick up a much craved transamerican soyrizo. I had been wanting to make my famous soyrizo scramble for breakfast for my baby but had not been lucky in finding the specific brand I was looking for. After a bit of research I realized they don’t even sell in New York State, so I placed an order on Facebook, and my dear friend responded to my plea.

I stuffed the two vegan sausages down my chest and we finished the cycle by cycling back to my apartment to feed ‘Toto’, and then to ‘Nickle’s’ apartment. We watched a few episodes of Lisa Kudrow’s canceled faux docu-sitcom “The Comeback” (which if you haven’t watched yet, please do… it’s a must), fooled around for a bit, and went to sleep. It felt incredibly nice to sleep at his place.

Monday morning we did a bit more of fooling around. He always suggests I stay sleeping but, even though I do feel at home when I’m at his place, I don’t like being there without him. Not yet, at least. We biked back to my apartment and his subway stop.

As soon as I got home, I showered quickly, fed my dog again, and headed in to the city. My friend ‘Martha’ had gotten me and ‘Jose Maria’ tickets to MARTHA (the show). I was excited to see the queen of home media in the flesh so I dressed according to the strict dress code I was emailed (“Martha loves bright colors” it said), put on the happiest fake smile I could, and waited in line amidst a few hundred midwest moms, a couple of craft loving gays, and a very moody and hung over ‘Jose Maria’.

After a long two hour wait, we were seated a few feet from where she would be making cookies (it was the beginning of cookie week), and I was getting a bit nervous. A few minutes later, she walked on stage looking overpoweringly robotic. From then on, every thing seemed orchestrated with extraordinary precision. I could tell that this woman is where she is because of who she is, and she knows it. The guests and the audience all moved to her subtle commands disguised under her charming persona. It was hard to take my eyes away from her presence, and kind of impossible to believe that this tender woman in a meticulously picked out outfit, has been to jail and back. At the same time, I could totally picture her being the matriarch of her fellow female inmates. I loved every single second of the hour and a half we were there. We left the show with a cookie gun, and a clay stamp.

At around 4 pm, I dragged ‘Jose Maria’ with me to run a few errands, we had lunch at Dos Toros near Union Square, and then a couple of drinks at Park Bar. I was still feeling anxiety and the alcohol wasn’t helping. We left the bar when he needed to go meet another one of his friends, and I walked to the theatre by myself to see a movie as I waited for ‘Nickle’ to get off work.

The anxiety got pretty bad and I passed out in the theatres. I woke up 90 minutes later to the last 15 minutes of The Immortals which I didn’t bother to watch because I had missed the whole movie. I left and walked over to whole foods to get some stuff to make food with my babe.

I met him outside the grocery store and we took the train home together.

That night, he cooked us dinner, I had a bit of anxiety, we took a shower, fooled around for a bit, and passed out with each other’s lips interlocked. It was one of the sweetest things that I have ever felt. I woke up a few hours later to a hand full of dried cum. I had another anxiety attack and finally passed out for the rest of the night.

Tuesday morning did not start good. I had a weird dream about my dad being diagnosed with liver cancer that set my anxiety off very early. My babe calmed me down and I got a hold of myself. I had promised him to make us breakfast with the soyrizo we had picked up so I got off bed and made us my famous scramble. We enjoyed a breakfast together, he left for work and I passed out again. I had another bad dream about me talking to my dad and telling him about my anxiety. I woke up to a bad fit, and texted ‘Nickle’ for some help. Again, he calmed me down.

A few minutes later, I finally mustered up the energy to take a shower and went to work. The day was weird and I was not feeling good at all. I am not really sure what happened the rest of the day other than I think we were drunk and I was trying to tell ‘Nickle’ we should stay at his place so he could make a bag for our Thanksgiving trip, but he insisted he would make do with what he had at my place so we didn’t go to his. Other than that, nothing comes to mind. I am sure it’s more of the usual, but I do know that the anxiety has been bad to the point where I go through periods without remembering what’s happening. I’m scared.

“I never thought I would compromise. Let’s unite tonight. We shouldn’t fight. Embrace you tight. Let’s unite tonight.”

Montauk.

“I thought I’d know the consequence, sweetness, can you believe this? Mess we’ve made of it, this mess we’ve made of it. In years to come it might make sense, sweetness, can you believe this? What’s become of it? what’s become of it?”

It was in 2008 that I first heard of the Montauk Monster. A raccoon-like fur-less corpse had washed ashore in the beaches of Montauk, New York. I had no idea of the existence of such town prior to reading about this anomaly (or hoax) on a random internet website but it did, however, start yet another spark. What is it with me and disasters/catastrophes and my love for New York? Just like 9/11 ignited my desire to move to the city, this monster now ignited my desire to go to the eastern most part of the state.

Unbeknownst to ‘Nickle’, I’d been wanting to go to Montauk for a while now. The day he suggested we take a weekend trip together (and with Fire Island being out of the question because, other than the summer, it’s a homosexual zombie town) I was on board. I didn’t say how excited I was, but I was. We set the date to the weekend of November 12, and the he dealt with the rest. It feels nice to be taken care of sometimes.

And so Saturday started with waking up early and not giving in to our hangover. We didn’t shower, just finished packing, grabbed our bikes and headed to Penn station. We picked up some juice, coffee, and a couple of sandwiches, and waited till they called the platform for our LIRR train to depart. At around 12:30 pm we were on board. For the first part of the train, we didn’t seat, we just stood by the handicap section holding our bikes and trying to fully wake up. The ride didn’t take long before we needed to change. At Babylon we boarded the next and last leg of our 3 hour long trip. Breakfast, kisses, a nap, and some you tube videos later we were in our home away from home.

We rode our bikes from the station to the Montauk Surf Club, a series of townhouses nested right off the Atlantic beach. The town, due to the season, was pretty desolate, but this just added to the magic. I was extremely happy to be away from the city and all that it entails, and have the next 48 hours just for the two of us.

After dropping our bags, we went for a walk to the nearest grocery store to get some snacks and essentials (alcohol). I’d been wanting this to be an almost sober weekend, but of course that was almost out of the question. We both drink and what’s better than having a nice beer or some wine with your man while laying on a bed and hearing the ocean sounds from less than a block away? I had a mini tiff with myself about letting go and relaxing, but I don’t think I was very successful so I planned on drinking myself numb. (Today, I read a lot about how to manage anxiety. I wish I had done that a few weeks ago).

We got back to the room and opened a beer. We talked about us and how we were finally going to have sex. I’m not sure if I’ve talked about this, but to that day we hadn’t had proper intercourse for various different reasons. We both decided to wait and, after a somewhat planned deliberation, we opted to finally do it in Montauk. Cue the fire works. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that level of connection with any of the previous 7 or 8 fuckees. It was magic.

After laying in bed for a few minutes looking like a Pollock from the neck down and sporting an R. Patz set of hair from the neck up (apparently, if you google “sex hair”, Robert Patinsson’s picture comes up a lot), we took another shower and headed to dinner at ENE, an asiany inspired nicer looking sea food place right off the lake.

Whilst waiting for a table, we ordered two drinks by the bar and started what would be a very long, very nice, very pivotal conversation. The more I read about my anxiety, the more I understand it, and the more I find ways of coping with it. That being said, one of the ways is being reassured somewhat constantly that most my fears and doubts are completely irrational. During the conversation, and without me asking, ‘Nickle’ did just that, by saying things like how much he loves me, how happy I make him, how different he feels about me from how he’s felt with others in the past, and how he does see us living together. Again, all these things seem sort of cliche, but when said at the right moment, they hold enough power to subdue whatever anxiety I was going through.

We left the restaurant and, although I was tired and wanted to go home with him, he suggested we go for a nightcap. I reluctantly obliged but later I was happy I did. We had a couple of drinks at The Shagwong Tavern, a super kitschy local dive bar. We continued our conversation because God knows I love to talk and I never shut up. Again, anxiety and all I was happy to be in Montauk. Three whiskeys later, we were on our way home to have one last shag before finally shutting our eyes. Day one: success.

Sunday morning we laid in bed watching episodes of How I Met Your Mother. We tried doing the dirty again but, since we’ve both pretty much honorably regained our virginity, our bodies were not ready for round two. Instead we reverted to familiar behavior and sucked each other’s dick dry. A shower followed, and then a bike ride around town looking for a place to brunch only to end at a little diner off the main road. The plan for the day included a five mile bike ride east to the lighthouse, but before doing so, we went souvenir shopping at an overpriced convenience store. Not much to say about that other than I spent 10 dollars on a deck of UNO.

The ride east was hillier than we had thought. There were moments were I cursed the day we decided it’d be a good idea to bring our bicycles, yet at the same time, I see no other more convenient way of getting to that point on Long Island. After about a half hour ride, we were there, smack in the middle of nothing was a cylindrical tower of sandstone and a few other smaller buildings, and a steep grass hill in which we rolled down. We paid the fee to walk up the stairs to the room harboring the fresnel lens. The place was beyond magical. Here I was 100+ feet above ground in the eastern most part of my favorite state in America with the man I love being blown by 50mph winds… if it doesn’t sound like a pretty picture trust me, it was!

It was getting somewhat late (because the sun sets so early these days), that we decided to go buy more unnecessarily overpriced unnecessary souvenirs (although I did get some super cute x-mas cards), and ride back to a different part of Montauk for some much needed lobster bake.

Our trek proved pointless as we ended up biking north through more hills only to find out that the two places we were looking to dine in were closed for the season. Yes, Montauk is magical in the fall, but no, it’s not super convenient to find places around town that are not “closed for the season”. We sucked up our frustration, mustered up our second wind, and biked back to downtown. This time, ‘Nickle’ walked part of the hills, I might as well should’ve done the same because, although I was on my bike, he was probably walking faster than I was pedaling. Just as the sun was setting, we picked up some dumplings to snack on before dinner from a hole-in-the-wall chinese establishment, a bottle of coke to make some Kalimoxto, and got back to our little love nest.

Later that night, we finally got our wish granted when we took a somewhat uncomfortable cab ride (the driver asked us for donations for his son’s surgery) to the west side of Montauk to Gurney’s Inn for a delicious two pound lobster dinner. I have never had as much crustacean goodness as I had that night and, despite it being all messy, it was one of the most romantic experiences I’ve ever had.

More stuffed than a turkey on Thanksgiving, we called another cab to head back. I don’t think we were conscious enough to fool around. The food coma sent us directly to bed.

On the last day of our romantic getaway, I woke up at 3 in the morning freaking out a bit. Yes, if it’s not clear by now, the anxiety happens often. The boyfriend, unknowingly again, reassured me that everything was good and I went back to bed. A few hours later I was back up. This time for good. We got ready and went for some short stacks at Anthony’s Pancake and Waffle House. Having still a few hours to kill, we went back to the room for round three. Again, not very successful, so we took a shower, and headed for a drink while we waited for the train to depart. The Shagwong Tavern became our Montauk Abbey.

Finally, at around 3 pm, we biked back to the station and hopped on the LIRR back to Manhattan. I napped part of the way there and read a fifth of “The Devil in the White City”. We were home in Brooklyn at around 7 pm.

For this being our first getaway together, I’d like to say that I was extremely pleased. I wasn’t sure what to expect, and I certainly had my fair share of anxiety attacks, but then again how is that different from my everyday? In a way, it solidified our relationship. It drew us closer and more scared, at the same time, as the stakes had never been higher. I was glad to hear I was not alone in feeling this way, and I was also glad to hear that my boyfriend is opening up more than I’ve ever seen him do… I wonder what will happen when we go upstate this winter.

“If you hear this and you think you’re ready, then meet me in Montauk where we’ll write out in the sand: ‘Here lies the destiny of 2 hurt souls afraid to be cured again.’ That could be our epitaph.”

the.applied.process.

Tag: Montauk

30.11.2011

Unison

22.11.2011

Montauk.