We Awoke This Morning Hungover And Vaguely Insulted, Without Knowing Why.

Last night we went to Hiro with two of our friends from Paris. As they had to endure all of our comments about Parisian gays last time we visited them (“Why doesn’t anyone have muscle tone?” “Everyone has smoker’s teeth.” “Sneering doesn’t make you clever, it makes me hate you!”), they loosed it right back on us. Sometimes it’s amazing to see things from an outsider’s perspective. It’s like having sex in front of a mirror – interesting at first, but ultimately unflattering:

On Hiro: “Why is it so foggy in here?” “Why is this part of the room only full of short Chinese?” “Your friends are pretty, but not really the other people.”
On Next, the gay magazine, which had a map of gay bars that they followed one night, to 15 different bars: “We think this map is broken. We went to Hangar bar and we were terrified.”
On Gym bar: “What is there to do there?” [Ed. Note: Amen.]
On Amanda Lepore: “We like the way your mother did her hair today.”
On Bank, at Element: “Upstairs it is house music that nobody recognizes. Downstairs they play a wide variety of music styles, from Abba to Madonna. There was open bar, so we each had eleven vodka Red Bulls. We did not go to bed and took a bus to Six Flags in the morning.”
On the closing of the Roxy: “It’s very sad. It was the best place.” [Ed. Note: muh?]
On Barracuda: “Maybe we go outside to smoke a cigarette. And don’t come back inside.”
On Fagat: “You touch people too much.”
On New York gays: “Everyone here uses steroids.”

We met them today for lunch and they asked us for “American food.” We didn’t know what that was so we took them to Dallas BBQ. They were wearing sleeveless shirts. People stared.