If Anyone Saw Us On Friday, That Wasn't Us.

After many weekends out of the city, we were finally able to get out and debauch ourselves over the past couple of days in New York. It all started on Friday night when we took our tall and handsome friend to a US Open party at Ono, where we hoped to ogle Andy Roddick. We waited almost two hours before he did come, and by that time we had helped ourselves prodigiously to the open bar (which served us poorly later). Eventually it got so awfully straight (men in bronzer, women with their asses hanging out) that we had to leave. Our next stop was the birthday party of the glamorous Eric S., who was at Therapy with Dylan P. and Charlie H. There, we ran into Martha Stewart's cute gay nephew who we knew in college. After that, we went to some roof party that some twink was hosting in Hell's Kitchen. Just as we arrived, they ran out of booze, so we went with TAHF to buy two 18 packs of Natural Light to share with everyone (well, one was for everyone, the other was just for us). When we returned, we were delighted to see Lance L., Michael S., and Rocco who we love but whose last name we don't know. And finally, after a night of leading us on, FHC himself arrived from DC, looking extremely tan and gorgeous. Unfortunately the twink who was hosting the party had a panic attack and kicked everyone off the roof before we had finished even one case of Natty Lights, so in a huff TAHF and some of the rest of us stuffed our pockets with beer and skulked out, wandering around in Hell's Kitchen with open containers until we arrived at the Ritz. There, we continued to drink our own shitty beers and dance to music of the lowest caliber, surrounded by people of the highest. Sadly, we were unfit to be seen in public and eventually realized this, and stumbled to a cab.

Whereupon we lost our cell for the first time in our lives and spend the next hour pleading with a cabbie over the phone to return it. We woke up phoneless, with a crippling hangover – but by the end of the day the cabby had returned our phone and we were ready to go out again, this time in Harlem. It was a great reminder of how fun it can be when you stay in town and get off your ass. Happy Birthday Eric!