So yesterday the plan was to head out to Coney Island where the B-52's were giving a free concert. Our group consisted of me, The Hellcat, his bf and a friend of the bf. This was potentially problematic as I don't know the friend at all and the bf and I currently don't speak, at all. But I decided to go with it anyway, telling myself that I could leave the group or go home any time I wanted to, and honestly, I thought maybe I could at least find a little common ground with the bf and take a couple of baby steps to at least being cordial around each other.
We had decided to leave several hours early, in order to scope out the concert venue and possibly enjoy some time on the beach or in the amusement park. Up until a couple days ago, the weather report for the day was sunny and warm. Of course, since plans were made, it began to seriously cloud up as we headed for the subway. By the time the train emerged outside to cross the bridge into Brooklyn it was pouring rain. We forged ahead. The rain stopped and the sun began peeking through the clouds. By the time we arrived at Coney Island it was partly cloudy. Unfortunately the clouds that were gathering were dark and soon we began hearing thunder rumble. Wandering, unsure where exactly the concert was taking place, we made our way up the street and off the boardwalk just as it began to rain. The four of us huddled in another downpour under some trees and two umbrellas. It offered poor protection and we all got kind of wet. In August in NYC that isn't really a bad thing. We all talked and cracked jokes. When the cloudburst ended we found that we were indeed near the concert venue. It was a large outdoor stage with several hundred chairs set up and a large lawn on either side and behind. The tech crew was there getting the stage ready for the show, and we walked over to ask a few questions. They were seriously really friendly and eager to help. We found out that the concert was reasonably rain or shine, and they were pretty sure it would take place. Also, the free portion of the concert was the lawn area, where you could set up your own chairs, blankets, etc. The seating could be had but you had to pay a (small) ticket price. We agreed, considering the rain, that the seating would be worth it. Oh, and they also said there was an opening act, but they didn't remember who it was. We decided to head back to the boardwalk for a while. I wanted to eat, and the boys wanted to at least ride the Cyclone, if not other rides, as the beach wasn't an option.
Back on the boardwalk, I had me some fish n' chips, while the boys had some food and another round of 52 oz. beers. I enjoyed a lemonade. Big beer is so not me. After walking around a bit, the boys decided it was time to ride the Cyclone. As I previously wrote, I don't "do" rides. I agreed to smile and wave in support. Like my mom. By the time we got there, it had started to sprinkle. By the time they finished the ride, it had begun to rain. I watched the backpacks and waved from under my umbrella. Like my mom. Apparently, if the park isn't busy you can pay another fee and re-board the coaster, so around they went again. According to the boys, the front of the coaster is way better than the back and riding in the rain is "awesome". It was time to head back to the concert. The rain stopped again.
The line to get seats was longer but not at all huge. I stepped in with the friend, while The Hellcat and the bf headed to a local bar for more beer to help pass the time waiting. Some local politician was onstage making announcements, and thanking corporate sponsors. It was while waiting in line, not really listening, that he tossed out the name of the opening act. Two words. Martha. Fucking. Wash. As in Weather Girls Martha Wash. As in 5 #1 dance singles in the 90's Martha Wash. I grabbed my pee-pee and squealed I was so excited. I realized, judging by our place in line, we were going to score pretty good seats. We ended up center stage and six rows back. After securing our seats, the friend went off to the bathroom. The Hellcat and the bf soon showed up. After putting their things down, they decided there was ample time to go back to the bar they just came from. I remained behind, listening to music and lightly napping. Before the concert started the rain returned. It started to get heavy and a lot of people scattered. Ever the petite gal, I was able to sit under an umbrella and stay out of the rain in my chair. As it was subsiding, The now tipsy Hellcat phoned me. He, the bf and the friend were on their way back from the bar. And they found a liquor store and were bringing wine.
Sometime after 8 pm the rain stopped and they hastily started the show. The Hellcat and I knew full well who Martha Wash was, the bf and the straight friend, not so much. But say what you will, the bf is a card carrying fag and he instantly recognized the dance classics this diva belted out. Her voice is still incredible and we were up and dancing, as were the other homos scattered throughout the crowd. What can I say, we're gay. We dance. It's our way. She tore through three or four numbers before launching into the gospel dance classic "Carry On". And just as the rain returned, as if on cue, the former Weather Girl started to belt out "It's Raining Men". Half-way into the number it began to pour. Our shirts went flying off and we danced and sang along in the rain. It was about as near-perfect a moment as you're likely to get.
By the time she finished it was pouring and this time, there was thunder and lightning. The Hellcat and the friend decided to set out on another run for some sort of alcohol. I remained behind, two empty seats separating me and the bf. He busied himself talking to people in the next row as I attempted to cover myself with a trash bag The Hellcat had provided in lieu of raincoats. It wasn't working too well and I decided to give up. I removed the cover and let the rain wash over me. It was a little cold at first but I got used to it and enjoyed being out and soaked in a summer rain. The storm went on for quite a while and given the intensity I began to doubt the concert would happen. Tons of people left completely. Finally after what seemed to be 1/2 hour if not longer, the rain subsided, the lightning moved off and the politician announced the B-52's were due to take the stage. I had a comparatively dry towel in my shoulder bag, and after drying myself off from a chill, I offered it to the bf. He declined. The Hellcat and friend returned, having bought more wine from somewhere. The B-52's were on stage and wine was passed all around. I took a cup of red, tasted it, and was instantly transported back to a high school hayride. It was "wine" of the twist off cap glass jug with handle variety. I'm no connoisseur, but my palate is developed enough to find this swill undrinkable, as well as diarrhea (an area I need no help in) and hangover inducing. I handed it back and refused repeated offers throughout the night. Everyone else seemed to tolerate, if not enjoy the stuff.
The B-52's were, as expected, fantastic. My favorites, Fred Schneider and Kate Pierson both looked terrific. On stage, I love their less is more approach. The music is good, the lyrics are kitschy, no need to jump around like mad. A hip shake or a well-timed shimmy will do nicely. That's true in life, if you ask me. In no particular order we got "Love Shack", "Channel Z", "Mesopotamia" "Planet Claire" and my favorite "Roam". Of course "Rock Lobster" was in the two song encore to close the show. It wasn't a particularly long concert, probably a blessing due to the iffy weather, but it was about 10 songs, all pretty upbeat and typical for "the world's greatest party band". I couldn't have been more satisfied, as I'm sure the crowd that did stick around was. Curiously, at some point early in the show, the friend excused himself to go to the bathroom, never to return. We had to re-connect after the show by phone, where he turned up well and truly drunk. The Hellcat and bf were feeling no pain either as we made our way back to Manhattan. Bottles of beer were magically produced along the way, open container law be damned, as The Hellcat and friend passed back and forth beer and later, the last of the "wine".
We got back much later than I planned, sometime after midnight, and I was surprised and thrilled that Jet made it 12 hours without peeing in the kitchen. I took him for a walk right away, and returned to the boys sitting in the living room with the music channel turned way up and singing far too badly and loudly, considering The Ex had just gone to bed and had to work in the morning. I decided to not be the mom anymore and point this out, opting instead to let them all hash it out if it became an issue. Still and all, I had a fantastic night. I really really loved seeing Martha and the B-'s perform live. I was a little disappointed that despite a couple of attempts to have even a brief exchange with the bf, he chose to ignore me and not respond at all. That coupled with the fact that when his friend arrived at the apartment, he didn't even bother to introduce me to him leaves me to confirm what I sort of knew. The Hellcat may care for him, but as far as I'm concerned, the bf is a no-class little cunt that I want nothing to do with. We all have plans to go to next weeks' concert (It's LIZA! gay-ola!). If it's a better day weather-wise I'll be going, but not with those two. The Hellcat and I still hang out on occasion. That'll have to do.
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