Monday, January 1, 2007

Night Out in the City

As is usually the case, my New Year's Eve was a plethora of fireworks, too much drinking, taking care of those who drank even more than I, and some unnecessary gay boy drama! The evening began with yours truly carrying a lovely bottle of blush sparkling wine from Gary Danko to a party a few blocks from my pad in the Mission. To most, this may seem like a pretty commonplace thing to do. Not in my hood, bitches! I live in the heart of La Mision, San Francisco's notorious/gorgeous/bohemian/run down/hipster/earthquake prone neighborhood where I hear gunshots ringing out as I close my eyes for the evening. Except these gunshots happen like....every other night. Not exactly Home on the Prairie or something fairy tale -- I'm talking about serious GHETTO.
Back to the story. My friends E. and B. had invited me to the first soiree in the Mish, and advised me it was "a black and white party," so I had to incorporate black and white into my evening couture. The party was honestly only four blocks from my house, but it seemed as if it took an exceedingly long time to get there because I was fearing for my LIFE. (I would like to throw in here that I was dressed exquisitely in a lovely new black shirt with subtle white pinstripes, a DKNY lavender tie, dress pants, and a stunning white blazer and a new pair of Kenneth Cole dress shoes). I passed no less than four homeless men on the way, each of whom were begging for change -- one of whom was standing in front of the gate to my house digging through my trash! Each one slung guilt trips my way as I passed, muttering "Happy New Year". Yes, I realize you're homeless and probably crazy, but for the love of Christ, get yourself together and into a shelter. Let me enjoy my new years in peace for once. Honestly. But, I kept myself together, keys gripped firmly in my hand, and arrived at the aforementioned party relatively unharmed.
Divas T , E, S, and B were all getting their evenings started, and I quickly followed suit. While I was thrilled to see them, I was expecting a little more Drooling over the bubbly I brought.... Little did they know I got it for free! But, I was due in the Castro for another house party with boyfriend J., so I gulped my drink, thanked the hosts, and hit the road.
The gay party was where the evening drama really stared. I entered stage right, and my man's friends begin lecturing me about our SEX LIFE. Not, "Hey Bunners! Wanna cocktail?" I was appalled and instantly made my way to the liquor cabinet to restore myself. Luckily, one of the hosts admired my tie, and I confided to him that I had actually got it one sale at the Macy's one day sale last week for twenty dollars. He blanched and said "Honey, don't you ever say those words again. It makes you look cheaper than a food stamp". Again, speechless. Did I honestly look like a two-cent whore? Don't people want to know when there's a fucking sale at MACY'S anymore, or am I the only person who claims poverty in this city??!! I just drank more to wash all of that away, of course. Check please! Mortified, party of one, now seating. I did find a kind hearted lesbian who took pity on how tragic my evening had become, which made me feel better. But, I felt as though I was getting to the point where I was unable to coherently produce sentences, so I can't imagine what she must think of me. A complete disaster, no doubt!
I walked out of the party with J. and down a steep hill. Of course at the bottom of the hill, in the heart of the Castro, I just completely wiped out, nearly throwing my cell phone down a gutter. You would have been proud, though. Even though I was blocking traffic and turning heads because I just wiped out in a major intersection wearing formal clothing, I got up, laughed it off, and continued on my way into 2007 as gracefully as ever.

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