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Sunday, December 03, 2006

Saturday Night Fever = Cirque du Some Gays Delirium

The events of last week put me in something of a funk. Well, a "funk" would be a severe understatement. But life goes on, right?

Hence, stymied by lack of sleep and the traumatizing events, my intrepid venture into the "Scene" was a necessary step toward fixing myself and the funk. No sleep and funk-induced zombie-ness are not a good combination, as it pretty much makes me delirious. And off to the bar I went!

Beating me to the "crazy" punch was my one friend who we were meeting. Seems like he'd already had a few in the half hour since he'd been there. Nice. It made for a fun time, though. We ended up at this bar called Bongo, in West Chelsea.

Now I don't know if I was delusional or not, but the people at his place were a bit odd. This one blond chick had her hair in two balls... like balls of yarn, but it was actually her real hair! Unfortunately, they weren't even -- one was higher and more to the right than the other. Is that on purpose? It looked like shit, so regardless I don't think it was a good decision. Her friend should be shot for letting her go out like that.

Then my friend points another atrocity out to me (as pictured to the right). Apparently we stumbled into a drug den because there was crack EVERYWHERE!

This wasn't the first crack sighting of the day. Earlier, my friend and I went to H&M for some 'retail therapy' on the cheap.
That was a bad idea. First of all, I can't STAND 34th street at any time of day let alone when it's full of Christmas shoppers. Slow-walking Christmas shoppers. Bane of my existence! To add insult to injury, this was my view as I was standing on the escalator.

After a cab ride up to Hells Kitchen and a walk through Vlada (WHY do we even bother with that place?!) we jacked a cab from a tranny and headed back down to Chelsea to meet up with my friend's boyfriend and ... his 42yo mom! I think the woman is a closet fag hag because she was tearing shit up!! It was pretty disorienting to think that someone is out at a gay bar with his mom, dancing with her in front of a bunch of fags. It's cute, though. My mom wouldn't do it.

Two more venues later and I find myself dancing on a stage with someone's mom and a white Christmas tree -- because I don't date other races (ha). At one point I look across the room and see this really hot guy. "Omg, this boy is hot! He's two people over from the ugly lamp!" Hot guy spottings are exciting, because I feel like there are so few of them in the city (how's that possible??). So I all bust out my cat eye night-vision and get a better look.

"Thank you, sir. Your Reality Check will show up in your account in the next 48 hours". Closer looks bring horrible realities. The "hot guy" was one of my fucking friends!!! That must have been some DAMN good lighting, because while my friend is cute, he's not as hot as I thought the "guy" was when I was on the stage. I went over to say hi, but didn't bother to explain the whole retarded thought process that led me to identifying him.

And that is why it's probably not advisable to venture out into the cold cruel world when you're a hot mess! Cuz crazy shit happens. But it was still a good time.


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