Last night was a blast starting with three wonderful women I had just met through my buddy DeeDee. We fell in a wide spectrum of personalities on the social and fun side of things. One woman had a great deal of resort style vacation experience with an appreciation for pampering (and really who doesn't?) and another was getting ready to shave her hair short for a hiking trip through Peru. I ran into the other tech geek (there is, thankfully, generally another person in any given group of four or five who groks I.T.) while the rest assembled had to eventually wrench the conversation back into the human world. And it was such a treat to run into a nurse with ER experience. Throwing a party blending a bunch of people who haven't met before? Be sure to have a nurse on the guest list. The stories are priceless.
Oh so different and yet we all ordered the chicken tika masala of varying degrees of spiciness.
After dinner was duckpin bowling, the beautiful love child between contemporary bowling and skee-ball. (I'm conveniently ignoring that duckpin predates the big pin variety.) The lanes in town are super retro. The decor is blonde wood furniture with green vinyl trim. Heavy ceramic ashtrays are built into the ball return system, and the lanes are a bit warped with seems in the floor sticking up a tidge here and there amidst patches of dirt. Due to its antique nature it's not the kind of sport for the fiercely competitive, and it comes highly recommended for hang out time prior to shaking your groove thing on a Saturday night. DeeDee, who took much abuse for her Chaplinesque bowling style, blew the rest of us out of the water with a score of 63.
After a shuffling of cars, a general thinning of our numbers, and a meeting of new people - all young men off to the leather bar - we headed for Talbott St. I don't even know how to categorize this place any longer. Groups of straight girls have shown up in the past, but they seem to have brought their straight mens now as well. It's owned by a lesbian, but not a lot are present although I'm assured that it is otherwise on evenings when I'm not there. Saturday night is drag night on the side Legends stage, and the main dance floor was crammed with sweaty, topless men gyrating with blinkers to thumping techno. There were a few power bottoms displaying some serious ab work under paper thin twinks on boxes dispersed towards the DJ booth setup on the stage at the head of the floor. I wasn't drinking, but I had guzzled a double latte at 10pm and followed that with a red bull around midnight. After the 12:30 drag show, which naturally started at 1, I had pushed through the caffeinated edginess and was simply wired. The nurse and I were dancing with such abandon that someone asked DeeDee if we were rolling. My shirt was drenched and my jeans were sticky by the time we headed out into the relative relief of the muggy morning. Mission accomplished!
DeeDee's boys arrived back at the "Gay Ghetto" around the same time we did and were off for some food. What night out is complete without a trip to Peppy Grill? I couldn't refuse, but I should have chosen something other than a BLT and OJ. (I'll blame my I.T. job for my predilection for initialized foodstuffs) Ugh. It's still sitting in my tummy funny. Again, I got to meet new people who were much fun.
Cutting this off, the sun is shining in earnest for the first time in days. I must go out and get some of that.
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