Things get cloudy after a while and you realise time related facts through a foggy haze, like the fact that I went out in NYC the FIRST night I was there, met Martin and Richard etc that night and that the Guggenheim and Natural History Museum were actually on the SECOND day.
Serves me right - I should have blogged this during the holiday like any good diarist could tell me. But hey.
So this blog is really about Day 3 NOT day 2. Confused? You will be... yoooou wiill beeeee....
So Sunday began with a hangover coz I'd been out with My Mate Nick - English boy I've been talking to online for four years - who had suggested I to go to Furball.
Furball is kind of odd. It took place in the Lesbian and Gay community centre in Chelsea - or it may have been Greenwich Village, kinda hard to remember - hey it was a beer fuelled night!
Either way I was having flash backs to the first event of its type I ever attended back at the tender age of 19 - they'd decorated the place in pink and black triangles, there was a raffle and a dance off to Vogue, but hey this was New York right? So it couldn't be like that. Could it? Besides they had Franky Knuckles playing. Why was I worrying?
OK to be frank, the NYC Gay scene that I saw (and my mate Simon reckons I did it all wrong) was overall a little on the odd/shabby side as far as venues was concerned, but the guys certainly know how to party! They're also incredibly welcoming and friendly and I had a blast. The place went off - the music was excellent, I danced until I though my legs gave out and then headed off to the Eagle with Nick and his gang. The Eagle is the Manacle/Barcode/Hoist of NYC. And it's testosterone charged (well mostly) and steaming. Lots of fun, lots of hot muscly/furry/leather/denim boys, well at one end in the muscle pit; the rest were your usual dirty minded crowd at least. I'd tell you what kinda action went on at the pool table but my Mum is likely to read this and I'd rather let her guess, Sorry Mum.
Anyway by closing time, I was still raging - it was 3.00am, but I was still on Sydney time and so wanted to party.
Imagine my dismay when the boys hanging for cabs outside told me everywhere was shut.
"It's bedtime" I was told.
"But this is New York, the city that never sleeps?!"
"Oh the straight scene goes off... but that's it for us"
It seems like NYC is the city that never sleeps unless of course you're a 'Mo.
Will get to Sunday in next post... honest.
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