After a less than ideal sleep on a hundred-year-old vintage sofa, which smelled like it was 400, I stretched my legs, reached for my phone, and started swiping through Tinder. Priorities, people!
Aaron had left for work before I got up. I continued to bounce between dating apps until Sonny woke up. I didn’t want to be walking around the apartment while someone I hardly knew was still sleeping. I mean, I had gotten to know a bit of Sonny last night while he and Aaron gave me a full State of the Union address. Although I practiced my best “listening” skills – i.e., a lot of “Oh, my Gods” and nodding, etc. – I still didn’t really know the guy. Once Sonny got up, we spoke briefly. After a few minutes, Sonny grabbed a huge wad of cash from his gig earnings last night and left to visit the bank, buy a coffee, have a spare key made for me, and take that damn Chihuahua out for a shit.
Speaking of shits, I had a moment of my own as soon as Sonny vacated the apartment. I defecate best in an empty house. While organizing my luggage post-flush, Sonny came back with his coffee and the dog – but wasn’t able to get a key made. Great. Listen. I realize when you’re sleeping on someone’s couch, you’re already an inconvenience. However, why make it worse by forcing said guest to arrange every entrance and exit with you?
Anyway, Sonny came back. We ended up having a long chat about Aaron, their families, and their upcoming wedding. I’ve already written more than I would ever care to write about someone else’s relationship. All I can say is that I wish them both the best.
In my opinion, Aaron has serious issues when it comes to expressing/suppressing his emotions. Even though you can tell Sonny has an issue with Aaron’s lack of expression, it’s also very clear that he’s itching to walk down the aisle. Considering they technically got married last weekend in a courthouse ceremony, it all just seems like an excuse to receive gifts and party. Sonny doesn’t even drink, though. God help the guests if it’s a cash bar. To be fair, I’m projecting my general distain for weddings right now. Still, I’ll say it. I don’t want to go to Aaron’s wedding.
While sitting on my hundred-year-old bed/sofa, Sonny and I got to know one another. Given that I’ve known Aaron for over six years, I had a few gems of my own to share. After all, this is the third boyfriend of Aaron’s that I’ve met. I didn’t talk any shit, but naturally Will Levroux came up. God, I miss the Will days. Will was so great.
After our catch-up, it was decided that we would simply leave the apartment together. Sonny would try and get a key made at another shop, then show me a cute café that I could work at. We left, the key shop wouldn’t make the key, and I decided to forego the café in favor of some shopping. Sonny continued with his day. I visited Columbus Circle, Central Park, and a very crowded 5th Avenue before eventually meeting Aaron for an early dinner near the apartment. Honestly, I don’t know why I visit New York City for so fucking long. I’m not doing this again.
Dinner was alright. I caught up with Aaron. We went back to the apartment afterwards, where he and Sonny continued their weird husband/wife role playing. Sonny pretended he didn’t know how to work a lighter, while Aaron pretended he knew how to make a fire. Jesus Christ. I needed to get the fuck out of that apartment.
Sonny is staging a Christmas production later in the week, so two of his friends came over for a small rehearsal tonight. The friends were very nice, but the gathering was awkward at one point. The upstairs neighbor started banging on his floor (our ceiling) in what seemed like an attempt to quiet the singing. It turned out that Aaron and Sonny had told the building they wouldn’t play their piano. Considering Aaron is a musician and Sonny is a drag queen, that was clearly a bold-faced lie.
Basically, tonight was the sole reason why I came to New York City in the first place – Mariah Carey’s All I Want for Christmas Is You: A Night of Joy and Festivity concert at the Beacon Theatre. I haven’t mentioned this, but tonight was also Austin Novak’s Christmas house party. Yes. Austin Novak. The same guy I met in August, when I left my iPhone and Marc Jacobs bag at his Fire Island beach house. Needless to say, tonight was set to be a very busy evening.
With ample time to spare, I began getting ready for my big night. After a shower, I re-joined everyone in the living room/my bedroom. I had started sipping on some gin and water to loosen me up, when the female background singer offered me some of her weed. I was hesitant. When she offered a second time, I sparked up. Nothing too much, but definitely enough for me to know I was stoned.
I don’t know if it was my high, but Aaron and Sonny started having another awkward moment. Sonny went quiet, and Aaron kept asking him if everything was alright. That’s when I knew I needed to get the fuck outta of Dodge. I would be back after the show to grab my things for Austin’s house party, so I laid everything out for a quick pick-up and ran out the door. I kept thinking that maybe Sonny got a second-hand high. Given my own smorgasbord of problems, clearly, I’m no expert. Still, sitting in a room of boozing and blazing probably wasn’t Sonny’s idea of a productive rehearsal. Just sayin’.
Following my walk/subway/walk to the Beacon Theatre, I checked in and took my seat – next to an eight-year-old boy. You had got to be kidding me. I was drunk, high, and would soon be screeching like a maniac. This was certainly not an ideal seating arrangement. Fortunately, within five minutes, the boy had asked his mother to switch seats with him. I’m not sure the change was much better, though. This woman was a complete nut job.
Listen. I’m a huge Mariah Carey fan. This is not breaking news. However, what people fail to realize is that I am not even close to the level of fandom that some of these whack jobs are at. One guy at tonight’s show walked down the center aisle of the theater in a furry lamb onesie with gold lettering. Unfortunately, my seat neighbor wasn’t much better.
After telling me all about her recent meet-and-greet at one of Mariah’s shows in Las Vegas, the woman proceeded to jump out of her seat and take 4,000 pictures every time she saw a member of Mariah’s entourage. This was in addition to a horrifically thick southern accent, and nuclear family at her side. I was stoned for all of it. This was at 8 p.m. – the same time Mariah was scheduled to start her show. Knowing full well that I was far too early, I excused myself to get a drink and shop the merchandise booth. I didn’t care if the candles were $25. I would have paid double that to get away from the freak show audience.
I dropped $20 on a splash, bought Greg a candle, and returned to my seat, where I waited until Mariah Carey appeared at 9:15 p.m. As usual, the show was incredible. There were a few lipped moments, but Mariah’s voice was amazing. The whole production was so much fun. I don’t know if it was because I was high, or because I’m at a different place in my life than the last three times I’ve seen Mariah – which, ironically, have all been in the last 12 months – but tonight was my first show without any tears. Even during “Hero.” Hey. Maybe we are making some progress!
The show ended. I ran out as fast as I could, swung by Aaron’s, and grabbed my stuff. While Sonny was getting ready for his gig, Aaron was sitting on the couch using his laptop. Now, I was still a little buzzed. I might have been reading things wrong. However, it felt as though Aaron was reaching for an invite to Austin’s house party. Well, there was no way in fuck that was going to happen. Not only would Aaron not know anyone, but I would have to hold his hand the entire time. Also, let’s not forget that I was looking for penetration tonight. My asshole was prepped. I was ready. Sorry, Aaron. Maybe another time.
Knowing full well that Sonny was probably bitching about me as soon as I closed the door, I bolted out of that apartment. Making my way to Austin’s apartment in Chelsea, I was very excited. When I walked through the door, everyone screamed. I didn’t think anyone other than Austin and Chris would remember me, but apparently, I had made a bigger impression on Fire Island than I’d initially thought.
After popping my bottle of champagne and filling my flute – I always BYOF – I began making my rounds and scouting out any potential suitors in the process. Unfortunately, one thing I noticed almost right away was that Austin was getting handsy with another guy. At one point, they even made out. Austin was my Plan A. Now, I needed to make other arrangements.
Although I caught up with the people I already knew, that didn’t last long. As a result, I essentially forced myself into conversations with people I had never met, while squeezing my double wide onto their couch. I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain. Why not just go for it? People seemed to like me. They really liked me! I made a few new friends, flirted with a lot of guys, and also had a very odd discussion with this older man named Harvey. I had been flirting with Harvey earlier, but it was more of a friendly flirt. Harvey was essentially a slightly slimmer, more manscaped version of Santa Claus.
While I try not to concern myself with the opinions of others, I always find it interesting to hear what people’s perceptions are of me. Harvey confirmed a lot of the things I already knew. I’m social, easy to talk to, etc. However, we then got a little deeper. I started talking about drinking, and how I sometimes have a hard time managing my alcohol consumption – especially when I feel l compelled to drink in social situations. Harvey told me that I have to forget about all of that. Instead, I need to remain focused on what is best for me. I don’t need any of those substances to make myself shine. I’m special just the way I am.
Truth be told, I can’t remember all the details of my conversation with Harvey. Still, talking with the older gentleman was very much one of those random “Guardian Angel” moments that seem to occur in my life every now and then. For example, that older woman at Walt Disney World, or The Stranger at Woody’s in Toronto. Just as with those angels, Harvey wasn’t the least bit condescending. What he said seemed to have come from a genuine place – as though he truly wanted the best for this kid he had just met. Harvey’s words were very sweet.
After my Guardian Angel moment, I began to chug water between my drinks. Around 1 a.m., it was finally decided that we would migrate to a nearby bar. Except for a small group of us, almost everyone had already left the apartment. We ventured out around 2 a.m. Only in New York City would you leave for a bar at 2 a.m.
Since Austin had been ruled out, I began laying down my moves on another guy. I was pretty sure I’d found a suitor for the night – a bearded hottie nerd named Dexter. In case that one didn’t work out, I had a guy on Grindr who I was working on as well. At this point, it wasn’t even so much about hooking up with a guy. Plain and simple, I was not going back to Aaron’s apartment. I wanted to sleep in a real bed. The dick in my mouth would be an added bonus. Once outside the bar, I ditched my champagne flute in a nearby planter and we all went inside.
New York City gay bars never cease to amaze me. They are always packed to capacity with gorgeous men, all of whom are social. As in, guys who are actually willing to have a conversation and go home with you. This bar was glorious. Unfortunately, we hadn’t even been there very long before Dexter decided that he needed to leave – without me. Fuck! The house party group had isolated themselves to a weird, empty lounge space at the back of the bar. I knew I wasn’t going to get any action there, so I continued trolling the main dance floor of the club. Nothing. Double fuck!
The night progressed. Eventually, everyone was ready to leave. At this point, there were only four of us left – Austin, Marco, Holden, and myself. Austin’s man was nowhere to be found. Marco was a rare breed of gay that actually consumes food in public, and ended up buying everyone a slice of pizza. I had actually wanted to go home with Holden, until it was revealed that he would be sleeping at Marco’s place. Shit.
Our group of four returned to Austin’s apartment. Holden needed to pick up his backpack, and I figured I would come along for the walk. I’ll be honest. I’m not exactly sure how this progressed, but eventually, it was just me and Austin. In his bed. Without clothes on. And his dick in my mouth.
By the time we went to sleep, it was after 4 a.m. I was exhausted. I was also spending the night in Austin’s real bed. Mission accomplished!