Last night I scored a ticket to an open bar fundraiser for a gay and lesbian charity. Wall-to-wall men and not a one of them looking at me twice. No lesbians to flirt with either. I threatened to wear a strap-on and start randomly poking people for attention.
At the bar, I whipped out my handy little “magic wallet” which garnered from the bartender a gleeful “Wee, you have one of those weird little things!” To which I replied, “Yes, it’s called a ‘vagina’. Very strange and unique. You won’t see anything like it here.”
Scott required nourishment in the form of fast food and convinced me and Patrick to exit the subway at Times Square for some Mickey D’s. Apparently the 24-hour McDonald’s in Time Square is not open 24-hours at all and instead closes at the precise moment our hands touch the door handle. Suck.