The View-Splash Post-Mortem: When Red Eyes Goes Out

Originally, the plan was to have 4 drinks over at The View and be done with it.

Unfortunately several things came together to make it a bigger night than it should've been. For starters, there's this new guy over at The View who seems to personify the definition of robotic twink. Factor in the upspeaking fag hags and after 2 Twisted Teas I was out of there.

I was going to go to Splash only if there was a short or no line whatsoever. Goddamit, there was practically no line, so I had to. The only people in front of me were a group of fags mit hags who apparently were shocked that Men's Night charged $40 for women. (Well, it's called Men's Night! Don't tell me you were expecting your hags to get in cheaply at a gay bar.) Grudgingly, they all came in as a group a priori my own entrance, which ultimately wound up being a good thing since the bouncer/doorman & I wound up having a very interesting (albeit one-sided) conversation:

Doorman: Like these white people couldn't pay?

Me: (courtesan laugh)

Doorman: You know, I saw Amistad and was pissed off.

Me: I know what you mean.

Doorman: I say pay, dammit. You get more money than we do, so you can pay.

Me: (courtesan laugh)

And I got in.

Now, I had no idea it was leather night, and in general, that thought would fill me with dread, since I had no leather on (nor would I, since I don't own any standard leather "accessories").

But there was an upside! That upside being that I really love the intense music that plays on leather nights. So I was bopping my head like a crazy man throughout the night.

I situated myself in a non-Brat area and was served by a bartender who I'll call J. J & I get along very well. Perhaps it's flirtatious (more on his part than mine), but at the end of the day, J likes me...probably because I'm so damn simple to figure out drink-wise: "Corona" and that's all.

Now while I seated in a non-Brat area, it did not mean that I was immune to The Brat since he had just gotten off his shift and he really likes showing off for J. So The Brat got onto one of the podiums generally used for go-go boys and shook his thing ad nauseam. He actually wound up being a pleasant distraction since I was sandwiched between a pair of "fabulous" friends and a new couple or two guys who were horny as hell for each other.

I'll admit it, I can get jealous. I am constantly trying to figure out what the criteria of the ideal guy is for me: I want him to be whip smart so we can debate public affairs, but with a high degree of sexual experience so that he has several surprises up his sleeve; he should be able to get as shallow as I can get without spending too much time there; and frankly, he should realise how much more stock I put in post-coital conversation than anything we do in bed.

And it kind of freaks me out when I realise just who could fit this criteria, but I'd have no problem making that leap mind you...if I'm on his radar.

Nonetheless, all I can say is that I'm happy I made it home in the condition I wanted to: solitary.