September 2006

One Saturday night during early Fall 06’, Casa Nova rounded up the gang me and C-Town, and told us he wanted to go out somewhere a little “different”. We ended up at a place called Luke and Leroy’s in the West Village. Just by the name you can probably tell what kind of place it was. So being in an awkward and uncomfortable social situation, I just did the same thing I always do in situations like that; got fucking wasted at the bar.

I was clearly among the straightest men at this bar, and also one of the drunkest. The highlight of the night for most people was a hot body contest, hosted by a transvestite- which unfortunately for me, was co-ed. So as my mind had to adjust to the sight of seeing live female boobs, I also had the unfortunate necessity of seeing some naked dicks as well. And there was cheering. And clapping. And a lot of it. Which tends, combined with alcohol, and sights that I’m not accustomed to seeing at a bar, to push me over the edge- to bring the Animal out of me.

So for every guy that came up naked, as all the gay guys and smattering of girls (fag hags) cheered, I let out a really loud “Boo” and screams of “You suck, fag”, various taunts and the like. And for every girl that came up, I yelled really loudly and started chants of “Show Your Tits”, which, of course, no one joined in with- just to show that I was the straightest man in the room, and to make fun of the gay guys. Fuck with their heads, which has been elevated to the level of a sport by me.

And the gay guys in the house were not remotely amused. As a matter of fact, after I unleashed one “Show Your Tits” chant, a gay dude standing right behind me, right behind my ear, unleashed a spew of words which have forever been engraved in my brain. Imagine the gayest dude in the world, in the gayest accent in the world, unleashing the following sentence: “I’m gonna beat the shit out of you, you fucking asshole” I could barely restrain from laughing. Then, this gay dude took me by the arm and started leading me somewhere. But some other gay dude told me to come back or something, and the first gay let me go.

Apparently, the story according to Casa Nova, who was standing behind me the whole time and overheard the gays’ conversation, was that the gay that had unleashed the tirade in my ear had serious plans to drag me out into a back alley and beat the bloody hell out of me, but the other gay somehow stopped him from, I swear he was planning on doing this, “beating me to a bloody pulp”. Miraculously at the last minute, Gay #2 had told him to calm down and take it easy on me or else he “wouldn’t give him a back rub” during sex later.

Which, of course, gave me a chance to get to the complete opposite side of the room, to relative safety. Where, of course, I continued my raucous cheering and jeering until the bloody end of the hot body contest. So thanks to a fucking back rub during gay sex in the West Village, I was spared what would have been one of the most embarrasing moments of any man’s life.

Gay #2, whatever West Village nook or sausagefest you’re sitting in as you read this, I owe you one. Because of the horrendously drunken state I was in at the time, it’s unlikely I would have put up a fight with Gay #1. And Casanova would have seen me getting my ass kicked by a gay dude and reported it back to the rest of the group, and then I would forever be the laughingstock of everyone. Not very manly, is that?

I went to get a few more drinks after this event cause there was a 3AM open bar. And CasaNova put his arm in front of me, blocking me as I went up to the bar to get my second rum and coke off, and said “You’re done man. Don’t get any more drinks.” OK, I need a second do explain the magnitude of this situation. When Casa Nova tells you to stop drinking, you are beyond fucked up. This is a man who, for two straight years', turned my New Year's party into “a puke playground”. This is a man who ran away from all his friends in an unknown upstate NY town and screaming into thin air that “no one feels his pain”. Alcohol turns Nova into the devil himself. So if THIS man tells you that you need to stop drinking, then maybe you deserve to get your ass kicked by a non-straight male.