Dear Men of NYC - You are the Gamut of Gay

New York recently finished it's Pride week, and it was at this time that I made a revelation about the city and the men it has to offer. In general, NYC has a plethora of stupidly attractive people (why do you think I moved here, DUH!). At the other end of the spectrum, or sewer depending on where you are in said spectrum, are the depressing ugly; people so abusive to the eyes that they literally must be classified as mutants. Why just today I saw a woman who had the most severe DBS I had ever seen. For those not in the know about this incurable disease, DBS stands for droopy boob syndrome. I would compare her boobs to a fruitcake, but that would be giving her too much credit. I was literally ready to peel her skin off and make a human pizza dough.

Now as any good Gay knows, we don't do anything half-assed. Drag queens don't dress as women to keep people guessing. We certainly don't have dinner parties without having any possible mishap covered and well prepared for. We don't gossip to just one person because...well where is the fun in that?

It was on my way to a restaurant I'll be waiting at that I realized how unprepared I even was to see NYC gay. Now I had seen a lot of really attractive men since I've been here, but nothing more exotic or rare than what I had seen in Boston.

So here I am, bright eyed and bushy tailed for an adventure in the west village....oh did I forget to mention that the restaurant is in the Gay epicenter of the Gay universe...and I start seeing all these colorful people getting on the A train (for more on the A train, look at my previous post)

Now I know that I was a bad gay for not doing anything for pride, but I just moved here and stop judging me! I'll admit, I kind of forgot that it was the last day of pride as I made my way to the west village. The first wave of people where your standard Pride Lesbian. Lot's of rainbow articles of clothing (gay men know better and just dress slutty), all of them with their "U-hauled" partner of the week, and lots of short haircuts.

The second wave was about as equally unsurprising. Your standard Chicken hawk flock(1. Older male who seeks the company or favours of an younger male. The term has homosexual overtones / urban dictionary.) usually two to three 30/40 somethings looking and commenting on barely legal boys who are probably not even gay. I say 30/40 somethings because they use tanning beds so mush that they have developed this new type of skin, called scales, where it because exponentially harder to differentiate the age brackets. The standard garb hardly varied, having different monotone shades of the same deep V that they tell their friends is American Apparel but is actually off the shelves of TJ Maxx, a pair of super tight jeans, and rainbow brand flip-flops.

The third wave was when I realized I was in for an abasement that will surely push me into anorexia....OK I like food too much so some other controlling form of self deprecation. Let me tell you, these Gays were like those rare breed of frogs that you read about on Yahoo (THE ONLY RELIABLE NEWS SOURCE! SORRY FOX, BUT YOU DON"T CONSTANTLY TELL ME WHAT MISTAKES I MAKE IN JOB INTERVIEWS AND STRAIGHT RELATIONSHIPS! I NEED TO KNOW!)

Colorful wouldn't be a justifiable term, because these gays exceeded the normal color palette. I needed one of those new Sony TVs that adds yellow for more color possibilities in order to fully experience the glamor that these gays presented. Some of them had blond fauxhawks with purple high tops a tank and some super cut-off jeans. Others were basically shirtless and should have had even less clothing. I was ashamed to be on such an unabashedly attractive train car. They knew they were hawt and were def gonna hook up wit sum trix 2nght!

At 14th street, I ran out of the train for two reasons. The first was I knew that if one of the alpha gays saw me they would send a hunting party out to eat a poor excuse for an NYC gay. The other was that I knew I would get distracted and had to get to that job interview!

Just steps away from the restaurant, I see a literal see of gay. Men making out and eating hot dogs....real hot dogs....no the other kind of hot.....oh you know I mean the food....the EDIBLE food! On closer examination, I realized that the Gaymazons I had seen on the train were the Alpha pack. I suddenly began feeling more at ease, seeing all shapes and sizes of Gay covering Horatio St. Bald queens were taking photos with beefy guys dressed only in their revealing underwear, nerdy gays were with their "I was a lesbian in high school so I understand you" friends, and normal gays who just happen to be guys.....read it....I meant it.

I ended up only spending an hour at the restaurant because it was too busy and they had too many gays to take care of to have someone train me. Gays are like babies when it comes to service and this place became a daycare center. I discovered later that the drink of choice was Prosecco and diet coke.....ewwww gays, I'm ashamed.

In short, though my posts never are, I learned an important lesson. NYC is a good place to be gay, if for nothing more than the people watching.....think of it like a Zoo except all of the animals are gay and not just the polar bears and penguins.

LOVE AND STRUGGS
B DANN