Tonight was my first 'house party' in upstate New York. I had no idea what to expect or do. I only knew that I had to wear loud clothing and bring finger food.
And I did neither.
I wore monochrome blue and handed the host a bottle or vodka....trust me, MUCH better than my cooking.
We first met for pre-party cocktails at the charming house of a charming friend, who greeted me at the door in a Mardi Gras hat....
At least SOMEONE read the instructions about the party...
If the party had just been the eight of us by the fire talking, it would have been a fabulous evening. But, at some point, we all got into a really large car (as big as my first apartment in New York), and drove somewhere.
I really don't know where...in Manhattan, I don't go to Chelsea because it's too far....I don't go to Jersey, I don't go to Washington Heights, (even though that's in Manhattan)....but tonight I went 15 miles, somewhere, to go to a house party.
The party was amazing! Thank God the other guests brought food, as instructed, and they didn't follow my lead. There was a lot of food. My bunch brought some food, a hummus dip (great!) and some other stuff...I don't know. ..it's all about the alcohol, folks. The whisky sours, that we drank out of jars, were very tasty. I'm still drunk from them as I type this.
I've given up serving food at my parties on my roof top in the East Village. I didn't think that gay men ate? Food, that is....
The house was very nice; the host, so gracious. And the crowd was energetic and cute. I was having fun!
Now, there was a cute boy in all of this....he was very sweet, talked to me throughout the evening, and I thought, "Oh, he's nice..."
But, at one point in the evening, he said to me, "I'm a bottom." OK, I thought, wondering where this was going, "and you and me together, it's not happening...."
Inside, I chuckled to myself. OK, I thought...whatever....
(I could disprove his "theory", but what do I do? Hand him a list of phone numbers of past boyfriends as references? Is there an 800 verification number to call, like when your credit card doesn't go through at first?)
His comment was random. I didn't ask him home. I didn't ask for his phone number. I asked for nothing.
It's kind of a shame. As Bette Davis said to Joan Crawford (vice versa?) at the end of "Whatever Happened to Baby Jane"',
"...you mean, all this time, we could have been friends?"
That's how I felt. We could have been friends, but he has another agenda....and I didn't fit into it...oh well...
I think we were at the party for about an hour or two, and as I went to get my coat, I found a butt sticking out of the coat pile, passed out DRUNK.....shocking! Good God, where was I? It was as if I was at the 'Cock' in Manhattan.
There was a designated driver, a concept I have NO idea of, considering the bars that I go to in the East Village are on my block, I walk to everything.....
One person volunteered to remain sober - which is enough for sainthood in my book.
We drove back to Hudson. I fell asleep in the back seat, like a five-year-old going for a ride in the car....
Then we all went to Stray, where DJ Giovanni was playing.
There, I met LISA from the 'Five and Diamond' in Hudson. Ok, Lisa's great, and I cannot do her justice in this posting.....she needs her own posting. More later....
Stray was fun, but after a little bit, my friends and I left.
I walked home, alone, and along the way, I met a black lab puppy, big paws and a big face. He was so happy to see me.
He just wanted to say 'Hi' and see how I was doing. He had no agenda, other than to greet people and lick their face.
After some doggie kisses, I continued home, and that's how I ended the evening.
It was perfect.