The Gay Gay Gayer Than Gay Power Poolside Party
The Gay, Gay, Gayer Than Gay Power Gay Poolside Party - Don't Get Me Started!
I have to begin by saying that I have been to perhaps all of about three pool parties in my lifetime and this was the first one in my forties. I think the main reason (besides never being invited to any) is that for me the getting ready process to go to a pool party (let alone one swimming with gays) is just way too much pressure. I don't know if I should fake tan or go as I am. I don't know if I should wear my bathing suit (ye gads, that's right, I only own one which I bought under protest when I was in Palm Springs three years ago at the insistence of my pal - read the story of the Gay, Gay, Gayer Than Gay Weekend here... http://www.somelikeitscott.com/somelikegay.html ) or bring the bathing suit and then it's all about the bag you bring to carry it to and fro. The list of things to worry about is endless and makes me so insane that by the time I get there I'm all ready done. But as this was to be a poolside party it made the decision easier, "the" bathing suit would not make an appearance, it would be shorts. Still there was much more to worry about because after all, this was going to be the gay, gay, gayer than gay power poolside party - Don't Get Me Started!
The party's occasion was a thirty year anniversary party for two guys and was being thrown by a lovely power lesbian couple. So right from the get go you know that the food will be great and that when people speak you won't be sure if it was one of the pool floats that sprung a leak or the partygoers inserting an "s" into every word they sssay. (You get the idea) Now what makes this event even more interesting is that the way that I know the lesbian couple is through my mother, who sold them their home so here I was at the gay, gay, gayer than gay poolside party with my parents. (How many people can say that, huh?) Here we stood, my mother rhinestoned to the nines, my father in his dress pants and Tom Jones styled Italian leather boots and me in my shorts outfit looking like a Garanimal threw up on me. We looked like refugees from a PFLAG meeting. And you should have seen everyone's faces when I would start talking to them and then say, "Oh, and these are my parents." Priceless - just like the Mastercard ads - "some things money can't buy..."
There was "staff" which included a male bartender complete with perfect highlights that was making everything (and when I say "making" I'm thinking he went home with more than tips) but specializing in Mojitos. (I admit that I had him tell me the flavored ones before deciding to go for a regular one because I wanted to hear the extra "S's" in raspberry) and a famous lesbian caterer from New York who was all business but threw my mother off her mark. My mother asking one of the lesbians throwing the party, "Now the caterer, she's so pretty and nice where is her husband?" Lesbian: "Well, her "partner" is right over there." My mother: "Oh <knowing nod> well, she's lovely, isn't she?" At one point there was a guy with a baby and as my mother whisked over and remarked how pretty the baby was and asked how old she was, the proud father gave the response, "Around three months old." As we walked away my mother got closer to me and talking out of the side of her mouth she stage whispered to me, "No wedding ring...do you think there's a "partner" somewhere?" Egging her on I said, "What do you think? He said the baby is "around" three months old that means he doesn't KNOW when the baby was actually born. Like when we took in the cats that were strays and had no idea how old they were until the Vet guessed they were six months old from their teeth. A baby doesn't have any teeth. Can you say surrogacy or black market adoption?" She gave me a knowing nod and then we moved toward the buffet.
The good news is that this was not a twinkie party. These guys had been together for thirty years so the partygoers were mostly friends for years and the guests were for the most part age appropriate. Still it wouldn't be a gay party without me ending up hanging with the heterosexuals instead of the homosexuals. There was the woman I started talking with who also owned cats so we had some inane conversation about cats while her husband stood there getting increasingly uncomfortable as the pool area filled with gays, not knowing if he should cover his crotch or ass as to not "tempt" the gays. (I could have saved him the anxiety as no gay would have wanted him) Then there was the couple from New York, the woman worked with a member of the celebrated couple and her boyfriend was this typical meatball who talked about how he couldn't find a job here because he was fired as a cook in New York but as the conversation went on he suddenly was telling the story about how he had been cast as a lead in an independent film that had lost its funding with a storyline that was so convoluted that I can't even repeat it because who would remember or care.
When I finally found a gay to talk to and was having a normal conversation, his boyfriend came over, smiled and nodded through a couple of minutes of conversation and then whisked him away - neither one to be seen again. I guess the boyfriend may have thought I was trying to make a move on his man...I can assure you that I was not and continually brought up my guy but you know the gays, we're a suspicious lot on the whole and tend to spray our territory like cats. The only other person I really had a conversation with during my three hours at the party was one half of another long term gay couple who you'd have no trouble picturing wearing caftans and lots of rings. You know the type, they make everything they tell you seem confidential and touch your wrist a lot as they "let you in" on what they're telling you.
All in all, I would have to say that my parents were the most interesting and fun people I talked to all night. So as I said my goodbyes and went on my way, all I could think was that although a lovely party maybe I just wasn't meant to be a power gay of Las Vegas. And somehow that was just fine with me. The gay, gay, gayer than gay power poolside party - Don't Get Me Started!
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- Some Like It Scott!
An acquired taste, like Tab cola, Some Like It Scott is one gay man's experiences with love, life and things that make him crazy, all done to a musical theatre soundtrack.
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