hangover

the descent into viator proved to be everything we'd hoped for--and more! a few highlights of the evening:

• warm but absurdly potent and (fittingly) fruity vodka drinks served in martini glasses
• a romy and michelle's-style valentine's prom decor
• two hip straight girls named audra and nicole
• the opportunity to make fun of conspicuously "indie rock" late-teenagers ("look man, we're so indie rock we don't have to comb our hair; turn up the volume--the YEAH YEAH YEAHS rock!")
• a game of compulsory (i.e. no one at the party was given the opportunity to decline participation) charades that somehow involved a fuckin' dildo
• two scared-looking but aren't-they-cute 18 year old fags; who's the top? who cares!

all in all, a fantastic start to the evening.

after getting substantially plowed at viator's (yet somehow instantly sobering up the moment we hit the street to head to the gay bar--most likely a protection mechanism) those of us who were of-age (five total) went to central station. oops...i mean "Grand Central," as it's recently gone under a multi-million dollar expansion and now includes a "disco" and an upstairs "leather bar," which is really just an excuse for older queens to sit around in a darker setting with tires hanging on the wall. the only leather in that place is on peoples' loafers. we were a motley crew to say the least: me (poseur indie-rock fag); tom (abercrombie/fitch vest-wearing fag); george (7-foot-tall chinese fag); nimrod (5-foot-tall israeli fag); and greg (the perpetual 19-year-old fag). one of us ended up going home with a SKEEVY (and i don't use that word lightly) costa rican, and they weren't indie-rock, a&f, chinese, or israeli. but i'm not naming names.

fag life in baltimore, man. gotta love it.