Wanna Flip?

What: Launch Party

Where: Kimberly Hotel
Who: Myself, Carson, Amanda, Alex, and Courtney

Last week I attended a launch party for the new company “FlipMe.” And while my feelings about the company itself are less than desirable, the party itself was not. Then again I must take into account the fact that I am easily pleased with free food and free alcohol.

The company is a new dating site that also has an in-person component. Anyone can sign up to make a dating profile on the site (if you pay the $24.99 fee...which only gets you thirty dating cards), however in order to let anyone view your profile you must give them a “flipme card” in person. Therefore, profiles cannot be searched and browsed. To top it off, the company seemed to be oblivious to the fact that "flipping" is a commonly used term in the gay community. For those who are unfamiliar with the term, I will not go into specifics, but it usually takes place in the bedroom.

My roommate brought it to the attention of many that it would be viewed as wimpy for a guy to go up to a girl and give her a flipme card rather than his number. Personally, I agree, it is an unnecessary step in the dating process. People should either date online or in person. One point that one of the two founders brought up was that it would be good for people who want to cheat…whoever said New York City doesn’t have any morals?

Regardless, the party was definitely entertaining. It was held on the roof deck of the Kimberly Hotel, a fairly unknown gem in Midtown East. The glass ceiling and walls open to create a spectacular view of the city lights.

There was a variety of media, people from the Wall Street Journal, The New York Insider, and others. A mini red carpet was laid out and many people attempted to pose with Miss New York.
Employees of FlipMe ran around explaining the product and showing people the cards. Most were stupefied when asked what they would do if handed a card by someone and it made the evening more enjoyable.

The only thing more enjoyable than the unprepared staff was when my roommate decided to ‘wingman’ for me.

Roommate: Don’t take offense to this, but do you sleep with chics or dudes? My roommate thinks you’re cute.
Cute Guy: I sleep with chics.
Roommate: Really? You look gay.
Cute Guy: What??!! Why?!
Roommate: Your facial hair is too well maintained.
Cute Guy: But I don’t do anything to it!
Roommate: Well maybe you should so it looks like you don’t.

Goals Accomplished:
1) My first launch party

2) My roommate definitely made me uncomfortable flirting with a straight guy (it should be noted that my roommate is also straight)
3) I learned that a surprising number of people want to be photographed in the hopes of ending up online or in magazines

Love the Glove

*Above is jStar gloving at a birthday party

What: Gloving
Where: The BK (Brooklyn)
Who: Myself and jStar

Never having been a person who enjoys raves or the drugs that accompany them I was ignorant when a good friend of mine, stage name: jStar, told me he was a “glover.”

A “glover” he said, as though this was a noun that should already be in my vocabulary, even after having worked at nightclubs this word was still beyond my realm of understanding.

“You’re a what?” I asked.

“I glove,” he responded.

Turning the noun into a verb made it no more recognizable to me, but apparently now it was thing you could ‘be’ as well as ‘do.’

jStar then went on to explain to me exactly what he meant. The performer (the glover) wears a pair of gloves that contain lights in each of the finger tips (well they insert the lights themselves, but that is neither here nor there). There is also the option of having a ‘palm’ light which, as I am sure you guessed, goes in the palm of the glove.

These gloves are worn mainly to DJ events that take place in clubs or at festivals. Then the performer/glover moves their hands to the music. With the surroundings dark this gives the effect of floating lights and creates a spectacle that is mesmerizing. Most glovers give individual shows to people, and occasionally do group ones, but the people have to be close enough together because these light shows are meant to take place directly in front of your face.

jStar then offered to perform a private glove show for me in his room. With the shades drawn to block out any street light, he played one of his favorite trance tracks. He then proceeded to move his hands in precise, exquisite motions in front of me. Each movement was thought out, prepared, practiced. The end result being a story of lights in front of me, the story was happy when the music was happy and sad when the music was sad.

It was entrancing and though I was skeptical I will now say I am converted. While this group of people (glovers) may be considered dorky at the surface level, the actual act itself is pretty cool.

I can only imagine what the people who do drugs at these clubs and raves see as the lights move, but even for the sober folk like me it is an awesome experience.

Webster Hall hosts a party every Saturday night called Circus that often times have glovers if you want to see this in action. My next step in this world is to attend one of these, anyone want to join?

There is also the Electric Daisy Carnival (EDC) later this month in L.A. This two day festival is guaranteed to score you more glovers than you can handle.

Other various DJ events attract glovers as well, you just have to dig a little bit to find the right event.

Or if none of these options appeal to you, just click here and get ready to be gloved…if one in fact can be “gloved.”

Goals Accomplished:

1) I had never seen a glove show before, let alone had a private one

2) Hmm I might have missed the boat on being uncomfortable...but maybe when I go to a massive venue I will be

3) I learned what gloving meant and that there is quite the following for it

The Only Six Packs Allowed are Beneath Your Shirt

What: Beach Day
Where: Fire Island

Who: Myself, Justin, Dan, Matt, and thousands of other gay men

A couple weeks ago Justin invited me to join him and two of his friends (a couple – Dan and Matt) to go to Fire Island for Memorial Day Weekend. After looking at the outrageous prices for hotel rooms (you must book 3 nights on a holiday weekend anywhere on the island with the lowest rate being $350 per night) we decided to make it a day trip.

Early Sunday morning we caught the LIRR (transferred twice) to Sayville where we hopped on a ferry to The Pines, one of the gay sections of the island. The other gay resort area is Cherry Grove. As we got nearer to our destination more and more people around us were gay, as though proximity played a key role in the number of gay persons.

As suspected each of us ran into at least one person we knew before we even got to the island (where we ran into several more). When the ferry docked we immediately headed for the opposite side of the island, a short walk, to lie out on the beach. Being the brave souls we are, we attempted to go into the water, but only Matt and I made it.

Much to my surprise and dismay the undertow stole my bathing suit, much like I assume a many of the old men on the island might try. Since I thought that coming out of the water nude would be an ‘open invitation’ (see number 6 on the previous link) I stayed in the water until I was able to locate said bathing suit. Humorous to Justin, Dan, and Matt…scary for me.

Past that excitement it was a regular day on the beach, only there were more men and six packs (on stomachs) than most other places in the world. It is quite literally Spring Break for gay men. Everyone can sunbathe and drink all day and party all night. I knew that I had seen this behavior before and remembered that there was a youtube video made by 5 gay men last year on the island to a certain Miley Cyrus song.

Overall it was a great time, full of frisbee and volleyball I had a blast. Sun, the beach, cocktails, could anyone ask for more?...Well there were beautiful men too, so if that does it for you, then I encourage you to go. Even the men on steroids here seemed to be friendlier than the ones on the island of Manhattan (probably because all of their hard work could now be on display).

The only quam I found, other than running into every gay person I had ever met, was the sex on the beach. The gay male population has been known for promiscuity and this seemed to be no exception, whether it was out on the sand or in the meat racks (the wooden pathway that connects The Pines and Cherry Grove). And while I am all for freedom of expression, next time try to go inside boys…no one wants to see that.

Goals Accomplished:
1) I had never been to Fire Island (Spring Break for gay adult men...and the women that accompany them)
2) Uncomfortable when my bathing suit slipped...and occasionally next to the men on steroids
3) Learned this is a literal meat market...and that traveling in numbers is your best bet

I'm Not Sweating...I'm Glistening

*Image belongs to www.chasmiller.com

What: GLSEN Gala

Where: Gotham Hall (Manhattan)

Who: Myself, Erica, and quite a few others

On Monday night I had the pleasure (yes that is the world I shall use) of attending the GLSEN (pronounced ‘glisten’) Gala at Gotham Hall. GLSEN promotes respect for everyone both in the gay community and those who are not. They recognize individuals and companies that have helped in the effort to create respect for all. The company I work for is one of the bigger sponsors of the event and offered tickets to a few employees.

I had never been to a Gala before and was unsure what to expect. When I arrived at the venue I saw a small red carpet, which I was not asked to walk on (a shock I know) and then a check in tent. After meeting up with my friend and coworker Erica we checked in and entered the cocktail portion of the evening.

First things first, if you are a male attending this event do not wear any color shirt other than white. While this is probably a fair obvious statement for most, it eluded me the way letter ‘r’ does for those who are from Boston. Instead I wore a bright blue shirt (keep in mind without a coat, another ‘no no’…so I made it a point to tell my other coworkers that I had checked my coat earlier in the night). Having already made two faux pas I decided it was time to get cocktails. While standing with the presidents of several companies (all sponsors) I found myself sweating from the walk over...rather than trying cover it up or pat away the sweat with a cocktail napkin I decided to point it out thinking that would be the least awkward thing to do...wrong. In a failed attempt at making a joke I recall using the phrase "I'm not sweating, I'm glistening." Needless to say the joke fell shorter than Shakira (is this yet another failed joke).

The venue was large and beautiful, it was full of people, mostly men, mingling and talking. And while many try to avoid stating stereotypes, it was hard not to notice how well dressed most of the attendees were.

Our company had two tables, one up front and center and one on the balcony. The one in the front was designated to the higher ups at the company and it was yet another surprise when they did not invite Erica and me to the front.

There were awards given to many interesting people. Chely Wright (country singer who recently came out on the cover of People Magazine) spoke as well as Cyndi Lauper. The latter had her unique crazy look about her (hair bigger than her head should be able to support), something always enjoyable to view. Both were fairly moving, but some of the more moving speeches came from personal hardships people had to deal with. There was a girl whose brother committed suicide due to being harassed for being gay and another girl who was banned from her prom for wanting to bring her girlfriend.

The least interesting and most obnoxious speech came from Reichen Lehmkuhl. For those of you who do not know who he is (and by all means you should not) he is the first gay person to win the Amazing Race. After he told the audience about winning the race (probably as a means to identify him) he went on to say that he will always be remembered as that, even if he DID write a book (his pathetic attempt at plugging it). He went on to try to plug other successes of his, but did so unsuccessfully. After his aspirations fell short he went on to tell the audience that he was a “fame whore”, a fact that had already been made painfully obvious.

On the plus side I got two dinners since Erica was a picky eater and then I drank one too many vodkas. Since I ate most of her dinner I gave her my bread…which did not help the vodka settle. Remembering I was at a work event…kind of…I decided not to attend the after party in this state. However, looking back I think I was one of the more sober attendees.

The dinner and speeches overall were beautiful, it was nice to recognize people who do ‘good’ in the world. However, next year maybe they should work harder to keep the “fame whores” out.

Goals Accomplished:

1) I had never been to a Gala

2) Became uncomfortable due to my two faux pas

3) Learned about the struggles of others and the struggle for others to want to be known as famous

Me Talk Pretty to David Sedaris

What: David Sedaris Live
Where: Torrington, Connecticut
Who: My Father and Me

I have heard many times that Connecticut is a stopover between New York and Boston. And while in many cases that may be true, every now and then there can be something fantastic there. Case in point being that David Sedaris made a stop on his recent tour there (while skipping New York City all together). However, he will be in New York City at the Apollo Theater on November 1st.

And while I have read three of his books (currently on the fourth), I had never heard him live. Many of my friends and family members make fun of me because I have a talent crush on him. He never ceases to amaze me the way he can string thoughts and feelings together with humor so seamlessly. However, I will be the first to say that I do not appreciate all of his work, some of it is not quite my humor.

On April 8th I took the train from Grand Central to New Haven, where I was picked up by my father (he got me the tickets for Christmas) and we drove about an hour to Torrington, Connecticut, where David Sedaris was performing a the Warner Theatre.

After a quick cocktail we filed in to the sixth row with hundreds of other NPR listeners. This is one of the things I admire so much about Mr. Sedaris, his ability to make astute observations about humans, more often than not in a crass way, while making the entirety of National Public Radio’s audience laugh. Older men and women who would never dream of laughing at Kathy Griffin or Chris Rock do find this author quite funny.

Mr. Sedaris is slightly on the shorter side, middle-aged, with blonde hair. When speaking candidly he appears slightly timid, but as soon as he starts to tell a story or read a piece aloud it is as though another being has taken control of his body. He is charismatic, witty, and wildly entertaining. The quality of his voice, that can be lost in his books, is in full force.

He read excerpts from his journal, new essays he was working on, and works by another author. The latter was lacking in humor to me and I personally enjoyed his work. The term “motha fucka” was uttered at least two dozen times and Mr. Sedaris saying it is humorous enough, let alone all of the upper-middle class middle aged men and women rolling on the floor laughing at it. He talks of food being labeled with odd English terms in foreign countries as though they opened up an English Dictionary and pointed to the first two words they saw instead of looking up the term for Game Hen.

Afterwards, David (let's call him that as though we are friends) waited until every single person received an autograph. I was the last person since I had gone to the bar next door with my father to kill time. Two hours late I met him and his partner Hugh (who he often writes about – usually about all the skills Hugh has and he wonders how he ever managed to end up with him). They were delightful and while I am sure they talked to everyone for as long as they spoke to me for (a solid 7 minutes), I secretly hoped we had became good friends. I stumbled and stuttered to try to have a good conversation, of which I am sure I failed miserably. He knows my father bought me the tickets, that I live in New York City where I work in Finance, and that I want to be a writer. All things I am sure would make us the best of friends, but I am not so sure he will agree too. Since, I know so much about him (via his books) it seemed only natural that he should know the essentials about me.

I also hoped that he will see this blog (a hard feat for someone who does not own a computer).

So I implore you to go, see David Sedaris and laugh with him.

I also implore you to go to Connecticut where there is grass, real live animals, and the price of everything is relatively free. It makes you hate people just a little bit less than you do when you are in the city for too long.

Goals Accomplished:
1) Never heard an author speak
2) Not really uncomfortable...just when the word "Motha Fucka" was on repeat and I was sitting next to my father
3) Learned that even NPR listeners can enjoy crudeness

Brooklyn: We Go Hard

*This image is courtesy of TigerPony.Org

What: Day Trip to Brooklyn
Where: Bushwick and Park Slope
Who: Justin and Me

Going to Brooklyn had never been high on my ‘to do’ list. It was teetering in between having my teeth cleaned and signing up for a colonoscopy. Once or twice I had made the mistake of taking the subway too far, seeing daylight stream in through the windows (an odd sensation when it had been dark a moment before) and immediately got off at the next stop to turn around. Beyond this my knowledge of Brooklyn could be attributed to a few Jay-Z songs and various newspaper articles that I had read in passing.

However, my good friend Justin has been recently pressuring to visit this outer borough and discover all of the greatness he sees in it. So on Saturday morning I got up bright and early to prepare for my journey. After almost an hour and one subway transfer later I arrived on Myrtle Avenue in Bushwick. After seeing Justin’s large, two floor, two bedroom, two bathroom, two balcony, washer/dryer apartment that costs less than mine, we decided to go to Park Slope (or the gem of Brooklyn).

First we went to Blue Sky Bakery, which has some of the best muffins I have ever tasted. I got a blueberry cream cheese muffin (and now currently suffer from a muffin top). Afterwards we went to an open market right outside the entrance of Prospect Park (Brooklyn’s version of Central Park). The market was great, full of various foods, drinks, and plants, all of which seemed healthier and more natural than the ones you encounter in Manhattan. I am told that Prospect Park is twice the size of Central Park and the layout is much better. The little bit that I saw of it was beautiful, and their biking route seemed pretty cool. The only difference I could identify was the number of hipsters (at least triple that of Central Park).

We rounded out our day at The Chocolate Room where I got one of my favorite treats: Frozen Hot Chocolate. It was amazing; they use dark chocolate and the best ingredients. Although to be honest, I think Justin makes a better and healthier version of this.

My conclusion: Brooklyn is great for enjoying life and terrible for watching your weight.

We did also stop by the Target store, which I know is not exciting, but when you see the prices, you can’t help but get a little giddy. Compared to the borough of Manhattan, everything there seemed free. I was introduced to the phrase “Free 99”, which felt pretty accurate there.

So while living in Brooklyn is probably not for me, it is definitely a great day trip. With tons of cool shops, restaurants, and bars, it is a must see (just watch out for the hipsters!...sorry I had too).

Goals Accomplished:
1) Never been to Brooklyn
2) Only slightly uncomfortable learning how to get there
3) Learned that other boroughs are actually cool (despite the popular Manahattan opinion)

Sweat Baby, Sweat

What: Spin Class
Where: 24 Fitness
Who: Me (and other more experienced members)


Whether I decided to endure such a painful workout because: my roommate is a semi-pro cyclist, I had just recently broken up with someone and wanted to lose weight, or because I had just read about the Bike Snob, I am unsure. Regardless of the reasoning, I decided to sign up for my first spin class a few weeks ago.

I would consider myself in good shape, I work out 5-6 times a week and regularly use the elliptical (because of asthma and a bum knee, otherwise I would run). And at the very least I had assumed that there would be a few attractive men in my class. When I entered the room and there were only 3 other men I should have immediately walked out. When the instructor asked if this was anyone else’s first time and only one other person rose their hand I should have ran out.

The instructor failed to see my hand, which I took to mean I would have to step up my game: become a real pro in a matter of minutes. Within two minutes I realized I could not fake having done this before. I was dripping with sweat; droplets were plummeting onto my arms, the bike, and the ground. My sweat towel had become useless in a matter of minutes since it had become sopping wet. And being the wise old man I am definitely not, I had forgotten to bring a water bottle. Being the cheap (and environmentally friendly) guy that I am, I refused to buy a bottle of water.

The instructor was great, he was excellent at encouraging us and occasionally making us laugh, even during a 14 minute climb. And while he reiterated “You only get out as much as you put in,” there were times I was going slower than he wanted, or turned the resistance down…almost off. And then got snide looks from the girl next to me who was not cheating herself, I undermined her arrogance my trying to aim my sweat droplets in her direction.

It was more of a workout than I had anticipated. And I was counting down the minutes until it was over. There was a clock staring me in the face, which was hard to look away from. The class before us had ended 8 minutes early, I thought ours would too and was extremely disappointed when I looked up at the clock and saw 5 minutes left.

What??? We were supposed to end 3 minutes ago!

But I made it, I did not walk out (even though I wanted to after 10 minutes and half of what kept me on my bike was that I was all the way across the room from the door). The instructor gave me a high five and told me I had done a good job, he must have known that for me to ever come back I would need the encouragement.

Dripping with sweat, red in the face, legs burning in pain, and carry a soaking towel I walked out with my head held slightly higher than before I waddled very slowly up the steps to the exit.



Goals Accomplished:
1) Spinning is new
2) Comfortable was never a thought I had during it
3) Learned that most women can kick my ass at cycling