Sunday, December 8, 2013
"Why are you here so early?" Ryan Hahn's voice rang out across his empty apartment as I dodged three eager waiters desperate to put a drink in my hand before I even had a chance to dispatch my coat. This is what happens when you show up at 9:05 for a very fancy holiday party that started at nine. Apparently, Ryan and our mutual friend Brian Gianelli (aka the only other person I would know at the party) had already decided Brian should come closer to eleven, when the party was in full swing. Information that would have been important to know.
As it was, I happily unloaded my junk at the coat check and grabbed a hot apple cider from the hot tasty bartender. I discovered the big-armed bartender with the heterosexual hair (see below) and equally hot waiters were no mere coincidence, but had been hired from Marc Levine, the owner of Model Bartenders. I came by this juicy secret from Marc himself who had come early to make sure everything was going well, which might explain the aggressive lords-a-leaping as I walked in the door.
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Yesterday was my birthday and with my roommate's encouragement, I hastily arranged some happy hour fun at Therapy Bar in midtown. I had a nice turnout, a good cross-section of people I know and mostly never get to see. As any gay party invariably does, it divided quickly into two groups: those asking who my hot friend was and the hot friend in question. Granted, there is always a fair amount of overlap in those situations (hot people asking about other hot people), which is commonly known as a hook-up. Although I don’t think there were any successful hook-ups at my birthday this year. You know me, always keeping the sexual temperature somewhere near a faint simmer.
|Me and Adam Sank. Turning up the sexual heat!|
Birthday parties are the worst kinds of parties because most of the time you go but the only person you know is the object of the party. And the same is true for everyone else there. So mostly you all spend the evening standing around not talking to the one person you came to talk to and milling around among a cluster of other people with the same mixture of irritation and disappointment on their faces. Not fun.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Turning thirty is a big deal when you're gay. I should know. I've done it enough times.
Tonight was the eve of Stephen Bauer's birthday and he celebrated it by working. Times are tough for Millennials. And the city is lousy with them, like third class passengers swarming the deck of the Titanic now that all the boats are away. You can't stand still for a minute or twice as many will take your seat for half the money.
Lately he has been DJing on Friday nights at Vlada, a familiar vodka repository in Hell's Kitchen. On my most recent visits, the bar has felt less like a gay hot spot and more like a well-kept secret. Uh, me too! Let me tell you: nothing feels better than having the hollow echo of an empty bar mirror your own existence. But in Stephen’s defense, this is my first time there on a night he was working and the crowd was squeezed as tightly around him as the sleeves of his joyously clingy t-shirt.
Saturday, August 24, 2013
That is the kind of spare opener he would have enjoyed. Obviously, I have a very different writing style. But when famous writers die these days, the internet briefly fills with anecdotes and life lessons in a really lovely sort of communal wake. And so it has been the case with Elmore Leonard this week and through that I have picked up a few writing tips that I both never follow and will savagely paraphrase here. My apologies to him on both counts.
Elmore Leonard said never open with the weather, but I don't think he ever had a Friday night like the one we experienced tonight in Manhattan. The air was crisp and clear, with only the barest hint of diaper. As the immortal bard Taylor Swift once opined, "It feels like a perfect night." And it does. Normally, in blazing winter and bitter summer, I am a reluctant adventurer. But when the temperature and humidity are just right, like dry bath water, I am not just encouraged to go out but I become the encourager.