From The Ashes ...

Gay Pride Week (Day One)

Today marks the official (because I say so) kick-off to Gay Pride week here in NYC. The latest fag rags are out and if you even tried to attend all the parties and events listed every day for the next week serious liver damage would surely be the result. My celebration actually began a day early (I'm ahead of the trend like that) as last night The Hellcat scored us some free ducats to an Off Broadway show. I had never even heard of the show, so I had doubts as to the quality of the production but decided to forge ahead, my attitude being if it made it to Off Broadway how bad could it be, and besides, an experienced New Yorker such as myself can convincingly "come down" with any number of maladies to escape from a dinner/party/event that has turned into a horrible bore. What? You think everybody suffers from sudden blinding migraines? Wise up sister. Migraine is a code word for your party sucks.

So the show in question is called Toxic Audio. I have to say, it was really entertaining. I thought at the outset that trying to mount a show basically about sound ( think STOMP for vocalists) was going to be a stretch but the show was as much a testament not just to sound but to manipulating sound to achieve a variety of sound effects. With that extra layering you did indeed get an hour and a half of variations on that theme. More than satisfying. Indeed my only criticisms after the show were in the set design, which I found too sparse. It was past low budget to no budget. Also the costumes. Nobody looked good in anything they wore. Ever. With the main black/grey/red outfits they were forced to repeatedly wear particularly unflattering. The only time anyone's clothes were any good were the few times the cute men in the cast took them off. And no, this wasn't a cute boys in their underpants type show. Still, some much appreciated, though harmless, skin was flashed.

Before the show, we met up with two of The Hellcat's Cali friends. One I had met briefly already the other I hadn't. The second guy I found out was a recent transplant from San Francisco who was here to start a job that has temporarily evaporated (for now he hopes). He had a gay Conan O'Brien quality to him with a healthy dose of self deprecating wit without seeming pathetic. I liked him OK. How could I not he made a slight pass at me. He asked for my phone number and as he was programming my name into his cell he said something like, (OK exactly like) "I should just put it under hottie ." Fortunately I was already flushed from the Cabernet, but *blush*. Come to find out later that that's the second of The Hellcat's friends to express an interest in my candy. The first being over the weekend and taken with a grain of salt as he was coming off an Ecstasy (among other drugs, I'm sure) fueled two-day, meaning he may have just been residually horned up and the fact that I had a cock and a pulse were enough to make me "seem hot".

The other great part of the night was that after an aborted attempt at dinner in a kosher steakhouse (I don't know) failed because none of the parties involved had the presence of mind to put two and two together and reason that a kosher steakhouse would most likely be closed on Saturday night (if you still don't get it find a Jew and ask, people in Minneapolis are out of luck. You have no Jews... Look it up), we opted instead to meet at The Blue Fin at the midtown W hotel. I've been looking for an excuse to check it out. It was swellegant. We couldn't get a table without a reservation but we were informed there was ample room at the upstairs bar with a full table menu available. There was and it was. Rounds of drinks were ordered, I opted for "a cabernet" guessing (correctly) that I would like whatever that meant as I'm not one of those whiney wine gays. Just make sure it's fresh, I say, and for god's sake a recently opened box, if you please. It wasn't nearly as expensive as I'd heard with all the entrees hovering in the $27 dollar range. Not by any means cheap but not outrageous either. The decor was standard to the W hotels, quite lovely with shades of tan and sandstone and bamboo repeated often throughout. The food, when it arrived was visually attractive if not portion-wise impressive but deliciously done with some well done accents that meant plates were eaten clean. I wish I could get more descriptive with the food but honestly, it's an area of skills that I'm sorely lacking. I'm quite adventurous with what I eat but I will often clean my plate without ever knowing or inquiring what a particular side dish was or how it's made. I'm very much a "Good food. Me eat." kind of diner. The details don't interest me that much. If you must know I opted for a seared tuna appetizer that fell very much into the good food eat category. The service was as attentive as I'd heard, and uncharacteristically, for upscale New York restaurants, genuinely nice. Tom sez...."Thumbs up, to The Blue Fin. Next time you're in New York, it's worth a visit."

After The Blue Fin the parties separated as The Hellcat's friends had already secured tickets to Hairspray for themselves. We all met later back at The Wrinkle Room. But not before a detour around ten city blocks to make way for a (laughably) late Sean Combs and a flying former Russian gymnast. I magnanimously gave away some of the owner's liquor, and every one called it a night around 1:30 or so. Leaving me to close. Alone again, naturally.

I'll be publishing this after the obligatory spell check. If this reads as disjointed as I suspect it does the reason is because even though this is a Saturday night wrap-up I'm actually composing it Sunday night after six hours sleep and a full schedule of events all day Sunday as well. Details forthcoming after a good night's sleep, a restorative trip to the NYSC and hopefully more good wine.