One night a couple of weeks ago I took advantage of being home alone and watched the film 'Burlesque'. So when John from GA invited Timon and I to an evening of burlesque in the Lower East Side I jumped at the chance to ogle Christina Aguilera look-alikes and get my groove on. We arrived a little bit late and I should have instantly known by the bar's decor that this would be no Cher-standard show. It was a $5 entry and we had arrived 10 minutes late and missed half the show. John bought the first round of drinks and we entered this velour curtained back room on Avenue A. The first act was a very skinny woman made up like a devil with red skin and horns. She did some weird, awkward dance moves stuck her tongue out a lot and finally removed her bra to reveal red sequin pasties. The second performer was dressed as Frida Kahlo, complete with mega monobrow. Her act culminated in her biting the head off a flower and then spitting it out. There were pasties with tassels, high waisted silk panties and ultra-thongs that showed way too much. The final extravanganza was a hula-hoop performance that would have been all the more impressive and all the less awkward if the girl had kept her top on. There was a a moment half way through when everything stopped to move on a pervy onlooker that was peering through the curtain from the street. Seriously dude, I'm not sure I would have even bothered watching the show for free. Kudos to the ladies for having the confidence to wobble and shake all over the tiny stage but boo to the organisers who couldn't gather a large enough crowd to make the limited cheering seem less pathetic. OH I forgot to mention that the show was emcee'd by a drunk dude dressed as Hunter S Thompson but all he did was make me miss our old housemate Nick who does a much better impression.
Afterwards we met up with John's friend who had invited him to the show and we went for late night tacos. We got stuck next to a couple of insanely drunk girls who talked obnoxiously to everyone in the tiny restaurant. John's friend tried to recruit us all to a hedonism week in Jamaica where you pay $1500 for the experience, and clothing is optional.
Later that week Scott called on us to accompany him to a exhibition opening at the New Museum on the Bowery. I embraced the event because it gave me a chance to wear high heels for the first time since the girls visited AND there was an open bar. The weather was diabolically hot but that didn't stop Scott from dressing up in a full leisure suit and fedora. We drank some way too strong vodka cocktails (the exhibition was some Russian/Communist/Eastern Europe malarky), made a cursory walk-around of the gallery and downed some free wine before heading to the oldest 'saloon' in NYC McSorley's. This place had intentional saw dust littered all over the floor (pretentious if you ask me) and only served 2 kinds of beer - McSorley's light and McSorley's dark. They came as 2 for $5 in tiny tankards and were the only drink on the menu. The boys had burgers while I indulged in a liverwurst sandwich (have you seen that on a menu anywhere??) and we sat around a table with a recent film graduate and aspiring filmmaker who waxed lyrical about Cassavetes and asked us to donate to his budget. We escaped McSorley's and ended up back at GA (as per usual) to make late night drunk milkshakes and take way too many photos of Scott in his suit pretending to lift weights.
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