Moon Stuck

So there is a super moon going on right now. This means the moon is full and at its closest point so it looks a lot larger and brighter than usual. This also means everyone is batshit crazy. What a perfect night for Broadway Bares at the Roseland Ballroom.

For those of you who aren't from NYC and think Smash is a wild night at the theatre, hold on to your aisle seats because you ain't seen nothin' yet. Twenty-three years ago, Broadway Bares started as a fundraiser where Broadway dancers would do a burlesque show to raise money to fight HIV/AIDS. The event has grown and tonight raised more than $1.5 million and had over 200 dancers peeling it all off for charity (including my pal Christopher Sieber in a wild leather thong and chains!). You weren't there so here is a glimpse of the show:

This year, Brian Gianelli was coming back to town and wanted to go. He cornered me on my radio show and demanded I join him at the Midnight show in the VIP section with him and adorable Ryan Hahn. Naturally, I pleaded that I am as housebound as Sigourney Weaver in that CopyCat movie but he was as relentless as Holly Hunter's bangs.

Then, my friend Matthew Kelleher texted me during the show and insisted I could stay with him so I didn't need to worry about missing the late train. I could go and have fun and he would be there too! So tonight, I dragged my bones into the city and arrived on time (a rarity for me) at Arriba Arriba, a very reliably passable excuse for a Mexican restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. It was also reliably sprinkling tonight even though there was a 0% change of rain. It's called living in New York. Seconds after I arrived, Brian got there with Ryan Hahn and handsome Luke McEndarfer in tow. Ryan was in his usual polo shirt, Brian in his usual t-shirt and Luke was in a tank top, which from the way he was wearing it, I am going to assume was his usual too.

Now I have already admitted that I am pretty sure I could never date someone in a tank top. In my defense, the tank tops I was referring to were loose-fitting sloppy messes hanging on the skeletal frames of sloppy mess hipsters. In this case, Luke was wearing a tank top that looked like he owned it. This was no Macklemore thrift store dumpster dive treasure. It was a tank top that fit his actual size and frame like clothing is supposed to. Also he has a very eloquent gaze. So in this instance, I would need to reverse my previous stance on dating people in tank tops. But only this once. Only for him.

Hipsters turned these umbrellas into tank tops.  True Story!

So then we had some kind of French bourgeoisie moveable feast bullshit thing that was neither discreet nor charming where we trotted through Hell's Kitchen looking for a different place to eat that had air conditioning and no 40 minute wait. We picked up Lane Hudson along the way who was in bright orange shorts and a tank top that even though he is a very nice person I would not like to see hanging on the other side of my "his and his" closet.

Finally we settled on Room Service where I got the red snapper (for nostalgic reasons) and only Luke had the chicken satay. It was liquid dinner at the bar for everyone else because even though we were meeting for dinner, everyone had already eaten. I appreciated that Luke, even though he clearly never eats anything, ate something so I wasn't the only pig at the trough.

But no sooner had I snapped down on my snapper than Brian snapped up and headed to a party that only he and Luke could go to. Lane, who forgot his ticket back home but conveniently had someone text him photos of it, dashed off to Broadway Bares to sweet talk his way into the show. Ryan and I had a lovely slow chat about life and growing up and why I was nostalgic about red snapper and then Brian sent us a text message that we could, in fact, join them at this other pre-party after all.

Moments later, Ryan and I were up on the 8th floor of a perfectly charming apartment on 52nd Street. Dave, the apartment dweller was very kind and provided us with all manner of delightful refreshment (vodka lemonade, shirtless "straight" bartender) and I ran into David Parr, who was on our radio show back in 2003 talking about an off-Broadway show he did and who used to be my neighbor up in Harlem. What a nice coincidence.

Brian makes sure the bartender is actually straight.

Strangely enough, later I ran into Chris French at Bares, and he had been on my show in 2006 to talk about his gay ski group Ski Bums. In his drunken state, Chris confessed that he had never seen me ski and has his doubts that I could. But I assured him of my movie star proficiency on skis, which is a concept I made up that basically means if I were starring in a movie and I had to play someone who could ski, I could stay on them long enough and look believable enough that I could pass as a skier.

But the person I didn't run into at Broadway Bares was Matthew, also known as my place to stay tonight. He was there because his text earlier made me drop my drink on the floor and splash everyone around me, which didn't make me any friends. Later, as I fruitlessly looked for him on the main floor after the show, I ran into Adam Jay, who had been with us in the VIP section, and his friend Adam Hess who invited me to tag along with them to the after party with all the dancers. So without a place to stay and all the people I came to the event with gone, I threw caution to the wind and headed over to Industry with Adam and Adam and we had a great time.

The ceiling at Industry. The party was too wild to show you. You'd die. 

On the walk over, Adam Hess and I discussed Andy Cohen's repeated reference to Judith Light as "Judy Light" at the end of Broadway Bares. I suppose this was to impress upon all of us in attendance that he is very close friends with her while we are all just spectators watching what happens live in his life. However, as willing as I am to call her Miss Judith Light up to the age of 150 and proclaim her a Broadway treasure, everyone in the gay community knows there is only one Judy. He'd be wise to remember that, especially this week.

Once at Industry, I ran into sexy dancer Curtis Schroeger, who I know from hanging out at Kevin and Christopher's place on the lake. In the lead up to Broadway Bares, the dancers raise money online, so I posted about Curtis on my Facebook page in the hopes my generous listeners would help him get to his goal and Curtis would be convinced of my awesomeness. I don't know how generous they were or how awesome I am but he did raise over $2,000 and I got to see him dance around with nothing but a trumpet over his junk, so that isn't the worst thing that ever happened to anyone.

Broadway Bares XXIII The Finale! God Bless America!

Finally, it was 3:30am and time to leave the wild party. The dancers were still moving around but I knew I had reached my limit. As I walked slowly through the city, I couldn't help but notice how quiet it was. Yes quiet. What little sound there was came off like a white noise machine, a gentle purr in the distance. The heat of the day had broken and for a moment, the city was a place of peace and quiet, watched over by a giant, gorgeous moon.

But soon, la bella luna will slip away and the sun will rise, and I'll walk to Grand Central to take the 5:36am train home. For a brief night, we had our howl, but as dawn approaches, life returns to normal in the big city. At least for another year.