I think the carbohydrate-free week will be easier if indeed fate was trying to send me a sign tonight.
As I came home, I was asked by a panhandler--who addressed me as "black" whether I would give him a quarter. He said "brother, I saw you with your things (headphones) in your ear before. Give me a quarter." I was in my Johnny Marr (j'en ai marre) mode, so I told him quite frankly "I'm not your brother." This pisses me off to be honest. Black solidarity is not something to be used when you need a quarter for god-knows-what. If you indeed consider me your brother, then you have to show interest in me beyond just a means to an end. (I wonder what Stephen has to say about this.) That's what pisses me off the most, the fact that a well-intentioned movement is trivialised for junkie's next fix.
Perhaps as an only child, I'm very hypersensitive about this phrase, but I just think that if you say it, you have to mean it.
Anyway, onto the drinking. Tonight was my last night of carbohydrates for a week. I think fate was sending me a sign that I need this purging. I started out at The Stonewall, where some guy addressed me as "buddy" and asked if I could keep my eyes on his bag. Dutiful person that I am, I did...up to a point. After 3 Coronas, he's on his own.
Next was The Hangar, which I flock to on occasion, as it is the locale where I met the first man to ever break my heart. Crowded, ergo I left after sampling two Budweiser Selects--yuck.
Then I followed that up with 3 Twisted Teas at The View, which is where I should've spent the whole night since all I wanted was to get my liquor and some videos. There I got it with minimal muss and fuss. I never thought I would write this sentence, but I heart Chelsea. I mean after the controlled chaos in the West Village, Chelsea was bright and friendly. It disturbs me that I may very well be a Chelsea Boy now.
Since I was saying goodbye to carbs for a week, it was off to Barracuda for the final drink. (Y'see, sometimes it's not a proper night out until you get your hand stamped.) Why, I don't know. By this time in the game I was pretty sick of drinking, but I like the videos and it's hard to justify water as your first drink.
Ultimately this lead me to Chelsea Papaya and the run-in with my "brother."
I'm oddly looking forward to No Carb/No-Fun week now.
5 comments:
OK, so as a fellow gay man can I call you sister?
Yes, most certainly.
Jeesh. . . Yeah, some homeless man (who was black)(when I first moved to NYC 5 yrs ago) asked me for a quarter. I said I didn't have any money. He said "you're a sorry excuse for a black man".
I don't mind helping "my people" of color out in their time of need. BUT--i'm sorry--we're all in New York and we're all in need. Perhaps I'm a bit of a Classist.
I could write more on this.
By the way, I think we were at the same places this weekend, but just at different times. email me, Buddy, bro, LOL
I think you are as Bougie as I am. That's a good thing!
I swear, I keep my eye out for you, Stephen. It'll definitely be out this week since no carb means no alcohol, and I'll be swilling diet soda all the way through Chelsea.
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