About a year ago my partner Steven decided to take some writing courses in New York. We rented an apartment in the Greenpoint neighborhood in Brooklyn. Greenpoint, a predominantly Polish area near trendy non-affordable Williamsburg was a delightful change from the screeching loud of Manhattan and came with the extra bonus of being known for having the highest stomach cancer rate in the country due to toxic waste oozing into the ground from ancient subterranean pipes. Plus it was close to the train. I enjoyed the smallness of the community and the blurred lines of sexuality. There seemed to be a veil of mystery around the young and androgynous inhabitants. Tattooed and skinny or bearded and looking like really cute hillbilly lumberjacks, there was certainly a difference between them and the Chelsea Boys. On Sundays when I would visit, I would insist on brunch in the city and then some light shopping followed by drinking. This was best accomplished in Chelsea.
Just a short 15 minute commute by train and you were transported from the Land of the Lost to the Day The Earth Stood Still thanks to Botox and David Barton's Gym. In Chelsea, the home of Gay Face the social vernacular and attitude would best be described as" LYING". When you run into someone you had just seen at 5 am in the back room of a bar you tell them how well and rested they look. If you spot someone from your AA group sipping a mimosa you politely turn away and order one for yourself. If your X walks in with the young Latino boy who happens to be wearing the Prada mules that you lost in the divorce, your only way out is to confront them with warm greetings and then excuse yourself from the room telling them that you must dash to meet with the adoption people about your chinese baby. The chinese baby has become the new Jack Russell in Chelsea. Couples parade up and down the avenue as though they are pushing a wealthy old aunt around 12 Trees eating BBQ , tipping the hat to all who pass. " Mornin', mornin'" they say as they acknowledge the muscle boy and his older boyfriend that they had had a summer share with 2 summers ago. Now they will have to share with another couple with a baby and split the cost of a nanny so they can go to T dance and get shitfaced. Life is different now. But they still have the newest diaper bag from Marc Jacobs and their kid is on the list for Dalton. All I can think of is that the drag performer and 70's legend, Sylvester is twirling in her grave, honey. Do you wanna funk?......won't you tell me now?.....if you wanna funk, let me show you how...do you wanna funk with me.....and my chinese baby?
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