So the other day i went out to a club. A gay one, and also a tacky
one. My friend Juan Jose picked me up at 11, already in hysteria for
we only have three hours to get there, get drunk, dance and hook up
before all places closed. Those were my thoghts as i realized that
people there seemed to have this tasks to be completed before the end
of the night. I tried to dance to shitty music while everyone held
their drinks and looked at other people's eyes as if they searched for
some kind of erotic acknowledgement, for some kind of approval or
disapproval, a sign of dismissal or a sign to let the games begin.
I went out and tried to chill. These dynamics were making me sick. So
i went across the street to the farthest bench at the malecon and
smoked a joint and a cigarrette while i pretended for the type-z
bugarrones that i was talking on the phone. They seemed to figure out
what was going on and started offering their services, all kind, which
go from sexual to narcotic, from protection to robbery. At the club
they were playing dominican street "mambo" which is our new electronic
music.
I went back inside to find myself in paranoia, evidently. I felt like
everybody was looking at me and saying: "He's stoned, that creepy
skinny guy with red mid-leg boots and really tight pants. Just another
drunken high faggot". However i managed to take a spot and dance in my
square foot of disco. Nobody else did. Nobody else danced.
At some point a drag queen came on to the scene. And her show was like
some reenactment of a bad seventies video or variety show. It seemed
to me i was back in 97 and i'd been allowed in a club as a minor. Some
things never change. They still looked into people's eyes, and mine
were red.
I was decided not to let myself get hooked by no pajaro in there. That
was not my mojo-of-the-night. So i closed my eyes and tried to move to
the beats of this song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yX7CFp4BTc
Until the lyrics began and it occured to me... this is what it is and
what it's all about. And while other clubs have a different style and
maybe a little bit more interesting activities and even shows, this
one manages to be the best in town.
No one ugly allowed? There were more beautiful lesbians than gay boys.
But don't trust me, i didn't look at their faces. At three we migrated
to La Resistence, which remains open all night long, on another kind
of paranoia, the one that clears out the street when the police passes
by. I ended up at a friends house waiting for the sunrise.
one. My friend Juan Jose picked me up at 11, already in hysteria for
we only have three hours to get there, get drunk, dance and hook up
before all places closed. Those were my thoghts as i realized that
people there seemed to have this tasks to be completed before the end
of the night. I tried to dance to shitty music while everyone held
their drinks and looked at other people's eyes as if they searched for
some kind of erotic acknowledgement, for some kind of approval or
disapproval, a sign of dismissal or a sign to let the games begin.
I went out and tried to chill. These dynamics were making me sick. So
i went across the street to the farthest bench at the malecon and
smoked a joint and a cigarrette while i pretended for the type-z
bugarrones that i was talking on the phone. They seemed to figure out
what was going on and started offering their services, all kind, which
go from sexual to narcotic, from protection to robbery. At the club
they were playing dominican street "mambo" which is our new electronic
music.
I went back inside to find myself in paranoia, evidently. I felt like
everybody was looking at me and saying: "He's stoned, that creepy
skinny guy with red mid-leg boots and really tight pants. Just another
drunken high faggot". However i managed to take a spot and dance in my
square foot of disco. Nobody else did. Nobody else danced.
At some point a drag queen came on to the scene. And her show was like
some reenactment of a bad seventies video or variety show. It seemed
to me i was back in 97 and i'd been allowed in a club as a minor. Some
things never change. They still looked into people's eyes, and mine
were red.
I was decided not to let myself get hooked by no pajaro in there. That
was not my mojo-of-the-night. So i closed my eyes and tried to move to
the beats of this song...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yX7CFp4BTc
Until the lyrics began and it occured to me... this is what it is and
what it's all about. And while other clubs have a different style and
maybe a little bit more interesting activities and even shows, this
one manages to be the best in town.
No one ugly allowed? There were more beautiful lesbians than gay boys.
But don't trust me, i didn't look at their faces. At three we migrated
to La Resistence, which remains open all night long, on another kind
of paranoia, the one that clears out the street when the police passes
by. I ended up at a friends house waiting for the sunrise.
1 comentarios:
Your post reminded me the night I went with my gayfriends to "JayDee's". Is really one of the most sick places I've ever been to. (I'm a fan of drag performances) CHA, of course is never that tacky.. And I have never seen lesbians there, but that night in JayDees, my friend Josie, the other straight-naïve kid with the gang, se levantó another girl for the first time. It took her weeks to get over it! hahahahahaha And I felt so bad because they wouldn't let me go up to the second floor because I was woman...
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