The Journey to Fagapalooza and Beyond
I began my trip to New York on Friday morning to celebrate with Kris Landherr his birthday and the 4 year anniversary of Fagapalooza. It promised to be a fun and rewarding experience, not to mention the performance benefited a good cause (Marriage Equality) AND I got to spend a weekend in my favorite city, NY!
On the way to the bus station I went by MickeyDs thinking I would get some breakfast ... I should have known better. They didn't have ham, they didn't have sausauge, they didn't have english muffins, they didn't even have the "round" eggs that go on english muffins. I asked "What the hell do you have, fucktard?" (ok, I didn't say fucktard) 2 which he replied, "We got biscuits." Well, after he fixed the order that he messed up, I ordered a bacon egg and cheese sandwich, my favorite. We drive around to the window and the guy who is standing there to take our money, the same guy who took our order, looked like he could have been the grand fucking poobah of fucktardom. Why does MickeyD's hire such dunces?? He hadn't bothered to shave or do his hair or pretend to give a rats ass about very much except scratchin' his balls. Great. So, I pull up to the next window to get my food ... and guess what.
"Sir, we're all out of biscuits. Do you want that on a McGriddle?" Suffice it to say I got my money back and settled on some chicken strips at the bus station.
Now, at the bus station, the bus was 30 minutes late. The bus pulls in and this middle-aged-but-rapidly-approaching-elderly fat woman gets out and starts yelling at us:
"NOW LISTEN UP! I'M ONLY GONNA SAY THIS ONCE! THE AC ON THIS BUS AIN'T WORKING TOO WELL. I'M WARNING YOU, IT'S GONNA GET HOT. YOU HAVE TWO CHOICES. YOU CAN TAKE THIS BUS NOW OR YOU CAN WAIT FOR THE ONE O CLOCK!"
Well, I couldn't wait, I had a show to get to. I couldn't keep my millions of fans (shut up!) waiting. How bad could it be, right? We all got on the bus, but this woman had to be the most miserable sad old hag I've ever seen in my life. Honey, if you hate your job or hate life in general, please don't take it out on the rest of civilization, especially when they've paid money to spend four hours of their life with you. The people around me seemed to publicly voicing everything that was only in my head. Before we rolled off, the driver said "THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE. IF YOU WANT OFF THIS BUS, GET OFF NOW!" It was a very ominous warning. A couple of girls behind me said it seemed like an omen, that maybe we should ALL depart the bus or else we would be departing the planet in the next few hours. But nobody moved. We pulled out of the station and guess what ... they had a movie scheduled. They didn't have fucking air conditioning but they had working tv screens. They showed The Pacifier. I would have preferred gay porn but whatever.
Needless to say it was hot as hell. Thankfully I was able to sleep most of the way. I'd never been happier in my life to get off the bus!
Thankfully, the rest of my weekend in New York made up for the hellish journey. By the time I got to Siberia for Fagapalooza that night, I was drained. There wasn't any air in this facility either, just a big fan. I couldn't get any relief it seemed. Well, they called my name to go up and sing and all I wanted to do was pass out and go to sleep. How was I gonna pull this off? Well, as it always happens, a few notes into my first song, I find my footing, I get my wind and I remember why it is I love doing this in the first place. I finish my last song and I'm completely pumped up and full of energy ... and dripping fucking wet in sweat.
That night I went to this bar called Therapy. That's what I love about New York. You can go by yourself to a bar and in minutes meet someone. Everyone I met there that night was from someplace else. The bar was very chic and had good music. I started to talking to a guy from Chicago and we ended up conversing all night. Well, maybe we did a little more than converse. Yeah, ok, we made out. In the club. In the bathroom. On the street. At the subway station. I was trying to get home to Brooklyn, I really was, we just couldn't keep our tongues out of each other or our hands off of one another. He was a strapping lad, too ... nice broad chest like he played football ... yum. At one point, we're making out by the subway station and a homeless guys comes by and says, "Damn, you two must be in love. Are you in love?" We looked at each other and laughed. It was all so ... so splendid. Well, he put me in a cab so I wouldn't have to take the metro. I'm glad his friend had taken a bloke back to their hotel room that night. This prevented me from being a ho, thank U. But I also think I prefer this memory and the mystery of sex that never was to spending a night in a stranger's hotel room. It's much more ... romantic this way. And I'm nothing if not romantic. Shut up!
The next day I spent with my jewish-cum-rapper buddy Soce. I have to link up to his blog as soon as I find it. And that night I spent with my HOT new lesbian dance diva friend Sandra Grace. We went to this party and I met all kinds of cool people ... including one of the prettiest frat boys I've seen in my entire life. Ok, had he asked me to do it ... I would have, anywhere, anytime ... oh shut up, you would have too had you seen him. Unfortunately, he did not put the moves on me and I was much too intimidated to put the moves on him. Bummer. I did make out (just kisses mind you) with an older but charming and definitely cute gentleman. We sneaked over to the next door neighbors back patio cuz she hadn't moved in yet. I had NO intention of making out with this guy, but it just sort of happened. You know how that is. It was nice. So, we rejoined the party and I got the feeling he was hoping more would happen. Well, I hate to be a tease but it couldn't be helped. I was not trying to ho it up this weekend! Remember my mantra from March! So, he left and then some of us went to some club called Barrage where I got completely shitfaced. My new friend and fellow outmusician Danny Katz was there. I think I held onto him a bit too much ... I couldn't quite stand. But then 2 guys took me with them to yet another bar in Chelsea called Barricuda. It was cute, but more importantly they played good ass fucking music. I talked to some cute boy that looked like Ewan McGregor and ran into someone who just happened to be a fan of Outmusic!
Then, at 4 am, I caught a cab home. It was a magnificent day ... New York style.
And I'm happy to report that the bus ride home to Baltimore was perfect. Cool AC, cool bus driver, half empty bus and I slept like a baby the whole way.
"Why U can play what U want 2. All the critics love U in New York. They won't say that U're naive If U play what U believe in New York." - Prince, All the Critics Love U in New York
On the way to the bus station I went by MickeyDs thinking I would get some breakfast ... I should have known better. They didn't have ham, they didn't have sausauge, they didn't have english muffins, they didn't even have the "round" eggs that go on english muffins. I asked "What the hell do you have, fucktard?" (ok, I didn't say fucktard) 2 which he replied, "We got biscuits." Well, after he fixed the order that he messed up, I ordered a bacon egg and cheese sandwich, my favorite. We drive around to the window and the guy who is standing there to take our money, the same guy who took our order, looked like he could have been the grand fucking poobah of fucktardom. Why does MickeyD's hire such dunces?? He hadn't bothered to shave or do his hair or pretend to give a rats ass about very much except scratchin' his balls. Great. So, I pull up to the next window to get my food ... and guess what.
"Sir, we're all out of biscuits. Do you want that on a McGriddle?" Suffice it to say I got my money back and settled on some chicken strips at the bus station.
Now, at the bus station, the bus was 30 minutes late. The bus pulls in and this middle-aged-but-rapidly-approaching-elderly fat woman gets out and starts yelling at us:
"NOW LISTEN UP! I'M ONLY GONNA SAY THIS ONCE! THE AC ON THIS BUS AIN'T WORKING TOO WELL. I'M WARNING YOU, IT'S GONNA GET HOT. YOU HAVE TWO CHOICES. YOU CAN TAKE THIS BUS NOW OR YOU CAN WAIT FOR THE ONE O CLOCK!"
Well, I couldn't wait, I had a show to get to. I couldn't keep my millions of fans (shut up!) waiting. How bad could it be, right? We all got on the bus, but this woman had to be the most miserable sad old hag I've ever seen in my life. Honey, if you hate your job or hate life in general, please don't take it out on the rest of civilization, especially when they've paid money to spend four hours of their life with you. The people around me seemed to publicly voicing everything that was only in my head. Before we rolled off, the driver said "THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE. IF YOU WANT OFF THIS BUS, GET OFF NOW!" It was a very ominous warning. A couple of girls behind me said it seemed like an omen, that maybe we should ALL depart the bus or else we would be departing the planet in the next few hours. But nobody moved. We pulled out of the station and guess what ... they had a movie scheduled. They didn't have fucking air conditioning but they had working tv screens. They showed The Pacifier. I would have preferred gay porn but whatever.
Needless to say it was hot as hell. Thankfully I was able to sleep most of the way. I'd never been happier in my life to get off the bus!
Thankfully, the rest of my weekend in New York made up for the hellish journey. By the time I got to Siberia for Fagapalooza that night, I was drained. There wasn't any air in this facility either, just a big fan. I couldn't get any relief it seemed. Well, they called my name to go up and sing and all I wanted to do was pass out and go to sleep. How was I gonna pull this off? Well, as it always happens, a few notes into my first song, I find my footing, I get my wind and I remember why it is I love doing this in the first place. I finish my last song and I'm completely pumped up and full of energy ... and dripping fucking wet in sweat.
That night I went to this bar called Therapy. That's what I love about New York. You can go by yourself to a bar and in minutes meet someone. Everyone I met there that night was from someplace else. The bar was very chic and had good music. I started to talking to a guy from Chicago and we ended up conversing all night. Well, maybe we did a little more than converse. Yeah, ok, we made out. In the club. In the bathroom. On the street. At the subway station. I was trying to get home to Brooklyn, I really was, we just couldn't keep our tongues out of each other or our hands off of one another. He was a strapping lad, too ... nice broad chest like he played football ... yum. At one point, we're making out by the subway station and a homeless guys comes by and says, "Damn, you two must be in love. Are you in love?" We looked at each other and laughed. It was all so ... so splendid. Well, he put me in a cab so I wouldn't have to take the metro. I'm glad his friend had taken a bloke back to their hotel room that night. This prevented me from being a ho, thank U. But I also think I prefer this memory and the mystery of sex that never was to spending a night in a stranger's hotel room. It's much more ... romantic this way. And I'm nothing if not romantic. Shut up!
The next day I spent with my jewish-cum-rapper buddy Soce. I have to link up to his blog as soon as I find it. And that night I spent with my HOT new lesbian dance diva friend Sandra Grace. We went to this party and I met all kinds of cool people ... including one of the prettiest frat boys I've seen in my entire life. Ok, had he asked me to do it ... I would have, anywhere, anytime ... oh shut up, you would have too had you seen him. Unfortunately, he did not put the moves on me and I was much too intimidated to put the moves on him. Bummer. I did make out (just kisses mind you) with an older but charming and definitely cute gentleman. We sneaked over to the next door neighbors back patio cuz she hadn't moved in yet. I had NO intention of making out with this guy, but it just sort of happened. You know how that is. It was nice. So, we rejoined the party and I got the feeling he was hoping more would happen. Well, I hate to be a tease but it couldn't be helped. I was not trying to ho it up this weekend! Remember my mantra from March! So, he left and then some of us went to some club called Barrage where I got completely shitfaced. My new friend and fellow outmusician Danny Katz was there. I think I held onto him a bit too much ... I couldn't quite stand. But then 2 guys took me with them to yet another bar in Chelsea called Barricuda. It was cute, but more importantly they played good ass fucking music. I talked to some cute boy that looked like Ewan McGregor and ran into someone who just happened to be a fan of Outmusic!
Then, at 4 am, I caught a cab home. It was a magnificent day ... New York style.
And I'm happy to report that the bus ride home to Baltimore was perfect. Cool AC, cool bus driver, half empty bus and I slept like a baby the whole way.
"Why U can play what U want 2. All the critics love U in New York. They won't say that U're naive If U play what U believe in New York." - Prince, All the Critics Love U in New York
posted by Saturn at
10:18 AM
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