Cocktails, Balls, and A Boy At A Urinal

Just a few little tid bits that never really amounted to a full post this week :

Monday night was another free drink fest hosted by my office building’s concierge service. Pix (one of my favorite long lost gays) and I stood atop a roof lounge between the Empire State Building and the golden turret of the NY Life Building enjoying our free bee Bombay Sapphire Gin cocktails while tearing apart the fashion (hardly) choices of the surrounding guests. Lot’s of sloppy boobs, bad spray tans, and at least one twenty something in a borrowed suit 3 sizes too big. The highlight of my night was discovering my new signature drink - ta ta G&T, and hello Tom Collins! How retro 60’s of me. I swear I was built for the bombshell era and now with my Tom Collins in hand…. I am ready for my time machine.

Tuesday was Bastille Day and in celebration Jesus and I went to Barolo for an Italian dinner. Upon entering we were faced with a rowdy group of red faced French men (ooh la la) playing petanque in the restaurant’s roomy back garden. As fate would have it just hours before dinner the co-workers and I were researching petanque and agreed, after looking at the official FPUSA (Federation of Petanque USA) website, I would probably have better chances of scoring a date if I joined an officially sanctioned NYC petanque team than if I stay on Match.com. The pictures show hardy teams of grinning floppy haired Frenchmen enjoying big French Provincial meals and several bottles of red wine – and why am I not playing petanque? Oh and for a mere $20 registration fee I can obtain my official USA petanque credentials so I could compete in the national tournaments. Vivre la France!

On Sunday after my lazy day in the hammock I took a detour over to PS 1 since I was in desperate need of a bathroom. I hightailed it past their summertime environment installation

(looked like Frank Gehry meets Snuffleupagus) zipped past the admissions counter, with a quick smile and a wave, then down the stairs to the WC. As far as I could tell there was only one restroom, I looked at the door for any gender demarcation but there was none. I quickly searched the hallway for another such facility and again nothing so considering PS1 is avant garde I went with the whole Gender Non-specific situation and made a beeline for one of the 2 open stalls. The stalls were fully contained rooms with doors that went from floor to ceiling…ahh ha this is why it is all genders all the time, unfortunately when I exited my private pisser I was forced into a VERY public situation that I was not prepared for. There I was face to back with a young man who was mid stream in his urinal experience – whoopsie! Unsure of how to react he put his head down and sped up his task at hand, I trying to appear ‘cool’ and oh so “avant garde” sidestepped it over to the sinks to quickly wash my hands (running out into the hallway would have been so prosaic). (the following is my internal monologue) - Turn water on…TURN WATER ON….. crap no water, ok move to next sink…good lord who designed this place we have a half wall between us, our shoulders are touching…. ok now just some soap …no not the MIRROR yikes, (half smile as we both regard each others’ countenance in the reflection of the mirror in front of me)...ok I don’t need soap, look back down…. now for a paper towel and I’ll be out of here but where is the paper towel dispenser?...please don’t think I am stalking you peeing man…. I am just looking for a towel…. WTF!!??? It is on the wall next to his right arm!!! Nope no paper towel I’m good…. wipe hands on pants and I’m OUT! What is it with me and bathrooms, maybe this is why I never go?