Woke up yesterday afternoon. The Hellcat roused himself about an hour later. His idea for a late afternoon movie sounded appealing. I nixed Syriana and Munich. So not me. I don't generally go to movies to think too much. We compromised on Capote. The actual person died in 1984 so I most definitely remember him as a guest on various talk shows. I remember him being particularly entertaining as a Tonight Show guest. The movie touches on what a great storyteller Capote actually was. So after a badly timed last minute telephone talk with my unemployment case manager (by the way, I sooo screwed myself on that front. It may be weeks before I get any unemployment coverage, if at all) we high-tailed it down to the legendary Angelika theater. The Hellcat was packing a couple of discount tickets that "they" give to people that have THE AIDS. We got in for 5 bucks each. My disease is so much better than yours.
We arrived too late for the previews. but just in time as the movie was beginning as we found our seats. I wasn't entirely sure what to expect since I try to avoid seeing/reading anything about a movie I'm interested in. I knew that the movie covered the time when Capote was researching/writing In Cold Blood, but having never read the book, I didn't even know much about the original case. I expected to enjoy the film, if for no other reason than my being a fan of Philip Seymour Hoffman. I first came to know his work when I saw him in Boogie Nights and I have to say, so far I haven't seen him give a performance that wasn't riveting. If you haven't had a chance, get a copy of Flawless. Like I said, brilliant. So I guess it's no surprise that I loved Capote. Hoffman was superb. His characterization of Capote wasn't so much an imitation as the essence of the man. What struck me most was how they captured the way in which he would tell you the most intensely personal story about himself, for no other reason than the fact that his subject would feel compelled to reciprocate. He was brilliant, but not above resorting to manipulation, lying, even outright bribery to get what he wanted. And yet, so multifaceted was Hoffman's performance that you never disliked him for it.
On a slightly unrelated aside, shortly after the film began a sweeping panorama of the Kansas farmland was on screen. Soon we heard the sound of a train in the distance. Naturally, I expected a train to come rolling across the screen. It wasn't until the train got noticeably louder without appearing that I doped out we were really hearing the New York Subway. I had forgotten how close to a major subway tunnel the Angelika's basement theaters were. We must have heard a dozen trains go by during the movie. You got used to it.
After the film The Hellcat and I met up with his boyfriend for an early dinner. Linguini bolognese, thanks for asking. Plus a couple of cocktails. True to the character and the time, Capote was seemingly never without a drink, It left me with a serious alcohol jones. Usually two drinks will at least get me feeling tipsy but I wasn't even slightly. We checked out the new club they've both been working at. The Hellcat has been coat checking on the weekends (read: getting drunk and having group sex after hours) and the boyfriend has been doing, well, whatever it is he does for a living (plus having group sex after hours). Have I mentioned I have no desire to get back in the bar business? I couldn't be more over that whole scene.
So dinner finished and club tour complete The Hellcat and I made our way back uptown. We were headed for Martha's as The Hellcat wanted some thermals but we ended up at the relocated Canal Jean Company. I used to make it a regular stop when it was even further south but sort of lost track when it moved locations. While I've outgrown some of their fashions and I found them woefully deficient in the funky underwear dept. I could still see myself putting together a cute outfit from what they did have. Besides, I rarely wear underwear. The Hellcat managed to find a black thermal and a hoodie he liked. I resisted. I'm actually quite content with the current contents of my closet. Very unusual for me. I don't even need to shoe shop right now. In any case, after a stop for provisions we finally made it home. My intent was to complete some writing for one of two projects I'm working on (more on that very, very soon) but of course, once I check my e-mail, and stop by Craigslist (for a minute) and read some blogs two hours have gone by and hey, isn't there a Will & Grace re-run starting? (sigh) Next thing you know I'm fixing a cocktail meaning all work is done for the day.
On this particular night, The Hellcat and the boyfriend were going to make the scene at Stache, the party that's been going on at Beauty Bar. They invited me along. I think I shocked them when I said yes, but they were stuck with me. What the hell, it was only four blocks away, if it sucked or I got sick of the two of them playing grab-ass I'd be home in a jiff. Turns out it was a pretty cool party. A nice mix of dykes and fags plus a dash of whatev's. The bartenders, mostly girls, were totally nice and speedy, the music was really great and the DJ's were both stupid cute ! It was really hot in the back bar and I was standing near the bathroom line when he walked by in next to nothing. I sniffed him for boy funk, alas I didn't get some. Yep, I'm dirty and middle aged like that. I also spied her and her. I watched some little dyke totally giving baby homo realness. (S)he was hot. We ended up hanging until almost 4 am which I haven't done in a while, as well as a couple of shots of Cuervo. I came home and fell asleep within 1/2 hour.
That was my Thursday.