Cherry’s was turning into pure chaos, so I decided to check out Ice Palace. Turns out the situation was pretty much the same over there as well.
Reports from Fire Island Pines started trickling in. Same there. Ellie was right. The situation had indeed turned into “a total sh-tshow.” The only thing that could have made the energy more frenetic is if her majesty Lady Gaga had flown in on a broomstick and tossed glitter over the Grove. As with all sh-tshows, it was impossible to turn away. People had stopped existing as individual units. They had all become intertwined and had melded into one giant pulsating, sweaty organism. Just as I was contemplating crashing on my friend’s floor and doing it all again the following day, another friend grabbed me and announced that the ferry had arrived. She dragged me out of harm’s way, and five minutes later we were both on the ferry, getting further and further from the massive volcanic eruption we had just witnessed.
Was the day over? Not yet. A nice gay man who had pounded back a few too many, been tossed out of a limo and left to fend for himself sat down next to me, and he wanted to listen to my iPod. Both of us sang very loud and very much out of tune renditions of Britney Spears’ entire discography all the way back to Penn Station. If you were on the inbound Babylon branch of the LIRR around 1am Sunday, May 29th, I am so, so sorry. But look on the bright side. Now you know all the lyrics to “(You Drive Me) Crazy.” You never know when that knowledge will come in handy. Knowledge is power after all.
Sometimes you accidentally end up on Fire Island. It happens. Now back to your regularly scheduled program.
But wait! There’s more!
- Two months ago I did a quick profile of the NYC slam poetry scene, and I interviewed a couple of local out poets. I am pleased to report that one of them, Joanna Hoffman, made it to nationals. She will be competing with her team, NYC Urbana, against 71 other teams in the National Poetry Slam in Boston this August. It’s sort of like the Glee Season 2 finale without all the drama and singing.
- Now how about them NYC gay sports leagues? It’s softball season, which means pretty much every gay chick in the region is playing ball in the Big Apple Softball League. Team Truck Stop, which is sponsored by the adorably degenerate lesbian party Truck Stop NY, was number one in their league at the time this photo was taken. They saw me coming with my camera, and they were so terrified they scaled a fence to escape.
- Holy crap, it’s June! Happy pride, y’all. New York City is a huge town, and Brooklyn thinks it is its own planet, so it is having its own pride this Saturday. After the parade, head on over to Southpaw, ladies. And then it’s time to gear up for the biggest, baddest Gay Pride festivities in the Milky Way Galaxy – NYC Pride. I will be taking photos at all of Maggie C Events’ and Bridget Hauserman’s parties, namely Creme de la Femme, Tittylation, Stiletto and Truck Stop NY. Come get your pretty face immortalized on the internet. Stiletto is going to be jaw droppingly ridiculous this year. Two words: dual waterslides. Check it out. But first, head on over to GO Magazine‘s Pride kickoff party, featuring the cast of The Real L Word, the show that satisfies our need to see Whitney bobbing for apples in Sara’s hoo hoo. GO‘s nightlife awards nominees will also be revealed that night.
That’s it for this month. Stay tuned for the June edition of N.Y. Scene. Get ready, because since it is Pride month, it will be the Longest. Article. Ever. You might want to start doing stretching exercises in preparation.