A Night Out With the Boys -- The True New York Moment

Last night I went out with some of the guys from the rugby team for some carousing in (of all places) Brooklyn. Actually, it all started at the apartment of one of the ruggers where we drank beer (I had 2 -- a Guinness, my normal beer of choice, and a Spaten which is a German beer which wasn't that great) and, between the seven of us there, an entire bottle of tequila. Granted it was more or less just five of us drinking the tequila but it was fine nonetheless. Combine that with a cutthroat game of Simpson's Clue (someone should have been eliminated after their answer was proven wrong but we won't go there) and Trivial Pursuit and the evening was just getting started. My partner and I (partner being team partner) in Trivial Pursuit made an astonishing comeback to tie up with the Twinkie Twins who at the beginning were getting such easy questions. Kudos to my teammate who was nailing the entertainment questions left and right while I was (oddly enough) nailing the sports questions with regularity. In fact, when we landed in the center of the board, a strong discussion ensued as to whether or not to give us a sports question -- which they ultimately did but I blew it anyway. Let me just say that the questions went from the supremely easy to asking us between which two countries a subatomic particle smasher splitter thing was located.

The evening was, ostensibly, a time for us to get together and socialize and have some fun outside of the rugby pitch (now that our practice season is over) and since none of were really in a mood to go bar hopping, it just seemed like a nice time to get together with each other, get drunk (if possible) and have some fun. Well, I had plenty of beer and tequila in me at this point, so I really didn't care although one guy was pretty much assigned to make sure I didn't wander off...I was angle walking down the sidewalk and well, I needed special attention.

But of course we wound up going to to a bar anyway...Granted we didn't leave the apartment until about 1:30 in the morning to head to this neighborhood gay bar (and by neighborhood bar I mean one that doesn't play loud techno music and expect you to dance to it but rather it has a nice decor, little tables where you can sit and talk to people, etc etc). The bar (Excelsior, if you must know) had a nice mix of clientele with people in different age ranges, men from different sub-groups of the gay community (bears, twinks, guys with that "guy next door look", etc...lots of beer was consumed although I didn't have any because let's just say that I didn't need anymore alcohol in me at that point. It was a time for more camaraderie and fun but oh what fun we were about to have.

Now somewhere in the middle of all of this, our host for the evening learned that there was a sex party going on down the street. Now, you all know how demure I am and that sex parties...well, they really aren't my thing at all but hey I am up for just about anything at this point so why not venture down there. Now, the term "just down the street" seemed more like A Long Day's Journey Into the Night (or whatever the title is) as we kept walking and walking and walking. At one point, I was in the "middle pack" with my assigned rugger to keep me from doing something (what I don't know but he was there with one firm hand guiding me along). So ultimately we arrive at the location and we get buzzed in and to tell you the truth, I wasn't too enthused about it and was looking for my evening guide for protection (don't ask me why -- I was drunk) but then we got word that the party was not all gay men -- there was the possibility of lesbians, she-males, and transvestites (although isn't a shemale the same as a transvestite).

Anyway, we had to strip down to our underwear (although there were people wearing MUCH less as in one guy who was naked except for his boots and the raging hard-on he was sporting) and keep your shoes on (because you never know what you will be stepping in). For me this meant I had to go down to my teal GAP boxers and my Doc Martens. Oh yes...it was a pretty sight for me. Anyway, I was taken back to this really dark, creepy room where I watched this writhing mass of flesh pretty much go at it. Some of the scarier moments was this guy who had to be in his 50s who was wearing bikini briefs (or something like that) who had his cock out and was stroking it while watching what was going on, one guy who was late 20s/early 30s who had a t-shirt on and...get this...a FANNY PACK(?)...Now I'm starting to sober up and realizing where the heck I am and it's starting to creep me out just a bit so while I watch my ruggers start to make out with each other I made my exit out the side to the somewhat communal section where there was a sling with a really manly (not to mention ugly) looking trannie curled up inside it.

Anyway the host (not the sex party host, but our rugger host) and I were curled up on this little bench (not really curled up as much as we were just keeping each other company because at that hour of the evening, we were hitting the bottom of the barrel) and he turns to me and says, "We need to hook up with a trannie." Now to be honest I wasn't sure if he was being serious or joking so I shot back with, "Why we?" There was only one trannie there that was even remotely attractive but still..it's a trannie! Nothing against them but just not my thing...We decided to mingle around and we looked through some peepholes at these three guys, all naked and sexed up and pretty much going at it. The funny part was that one of them was covering his crotch with his hands...

Atr this point we decided to leave and head back to Excelsior where we were there just in time for last call and had a round of kamikazes which I downed in one gulp. I thought there would be more alcohol and toxic but I have to say that it was rather sweet. After more bar carousing we headed out to a 24 hour diner down the street and at this point we bid adieu to the Twinkie Twins who were heading back to the city. The diner was this really cool place that was packed (even at 4:30 in the morning at this point). Our lovely waitress, Toni, was a hoot and a half while her boss who was manning the cash register was a complete moron. He was being bitchy and mean and we called him a repressed queen primarily because of the shirt/blouse/smock he was wearing (which did not look good on him). Anyway, it was breakfasts all around for our group (with the "Breakfast Sampler" being renamed the "Lumberjack Bonanza") and it was a time for us to talk and commisserate even more and, as someone said, a time to bond with your fellow teammates and make yourselves a more cohesive unit.

At about 5:30 we left the diner and I decided that I neededd to head home because it was starting to get light and I was starting to fall asleep. I could have stayed over at the host's house but I was in one of those "let me sleep in my own bed" moods. It's hard to explain but I never really sleep well when I am not in my own bed unless I am piss-ass tired and just collapse (as was the case with some of the nights on the Bear Stearns project). But there I was on the subway going home (switched to a cab at 42nd street and was home in about an hour total) and I realized that there was something so uniquely New York about the entire evening. From the little Asian kid on the subway going down to Brooklyn singing "God Bless America" to having sushi and pizza delievered while watching a rugby recap on Fox Sports World to playing games to the bar and sex party to early morning breakfasts...I dunno it's hard to explain. I know that in Jacksonville you couldn't have seven gay men experience all of that within the space of a few blocks and somehow be able to revel within the shared communal experience...

Call me crazy but this would never have happened in Jacksonville, Florida...