Well my dear friend Longinus rented a place out on Fire Island. Fire Island being the gay Mecca that it is, good ol' Longinus had a different boy toy for every day of the week, and two on Sunday. Or was it that he was getting laid seven ways to Sunday? I can never remember which he boasted when he called to invite me to his White Elephant party. A White Elephant party, for those of you who don't know, is a euphemism for a singles mixer. Now, the fact that Longinus is as gay as a fruit basket doesn't mean that everybody else at his parties is also gay. He invites the gay, the straight, the bisexual. And while his parties are not specifically BDSM play parties, they're also not Vanilla either.
There's an "anything and everything goes" vibe. The things that go on at his parties can be quite surreal (like the time the very buttoned up business man dirty danced with the cowboy who wore assless leather chaps at new year's) to scary (the middle aged married couple who arrived to Labor Day looking very proper but were later walked in while beating each other with pool toys, hardcore S & M style, in the pool house...no one expected it of them) to breathtakingly beautiful (that time Liza Minelli just materialized out of nowhere as the sun came up and started to sing).
Point being...a Longinus party is not to be missed. So I got my single ass out to fire island like a good girl. I arrived Friday afternoon, the party set for Saturday night...why not make a weekend of it.
"Longinus, my love," I said when I landed on his beach, suitcase in hand, "my god this is a gorgeous party house you've got."
"Wait till you see inside," he said, sashaying forth in a billowy blue kaftan, "track lighting everywhere." The gays love their houses and their track lighting. "And you look wonderful, by the way. Andre!" He shouted. Presently a muscular Hispanic man came out of the house. "Andre, take her bag up to the pink room." Andre took my suitcase without so much as a word.
"So, Andre," I said to Longinus, "are you two..."
"We did this morning," came the reply.
"Very nice. But tell me, is he bi? Because he is gorgeous."
"He is completely gay, so you haven't a chance in hell," Longinus laughed. With that, we linked arms and went into the house. He gave me the grand tour, of course. The house was really gorgeous. Nice big rooms, which made it the ideal party house. The tour ended in the pink room, which was to be my room for the weekend. Upon first seeing it, I was truly surprised Longinus hadn't taken it for himself. It was, well...very pink. Pink walls, pink floral bedding, even the bathroom off the bedroom was pink & white. "Don't you just love it?" He asked.
"I love the whole house," I said.
"I'll let you freshen up," he said, "the you can put on a kaftan and join Andre & I on the beach for dinner."
"I don't own a kaftan," I laughed.
"Check the closet, sweetie."
I took a refreshing shower, braided my hair, and looked in the closet. Sure enough, there hung a purple kaftan. I did my eye makeup purple to match the kaftan, stepped into sandals, and headed out. Dinner consisted of grilled lobsters and string beans. The two men drank red wine, while I stuck to water with a wedge of lemon.
"You know, you're really taking this not drinking thing seriously," Longinus said, "I'm kind of ashamed to say I didn't believe you'd stick with it."
"Tell you a secret," I laughed, lighting a postprandial cigarette, "I didn't think I'd stick with it. But look at me now...I've lost weight, I'm getting back into writing, I started dating again, I'm not depressed."
"You're writing again?"
"You heard me," I nodded.
"You know I always said you had talent."
"Well, you were right all along."
"I also said you should sing," he said.
"Longinus," I waved him off, "I sang karaoke in college a couple of times," I said, "that's not real singing, it's...mimicking." I smoked my cigarette.
"Well I thought you had great stage presence." He insisted. "You should've seen her Andre...the growl of Courtney Love, the attitude of Shirley Manson, the anger of Alanis Morissette."
"And the talent of none of them," I laughed.
"To great stage presence then," Andre lifted his wine glass.
Eventually we retired for the night, I into the pink room to lie on the bed alone, and they to the master suite to...well, to do whatever it is two men do together. I heard giggling, at one point I heard a high-pitched "harder, Daddy" from Longinus, and I was certain they were having a grand old time.
Come Saturday morning I got up at ten-thirty, threw on pair of Capri pants and an empire waist top, and moseyed downstairs. I found Andre breakfasting alone. "I see Longinus is still a member of the crack of noon club," I said, reaching for the coffee. "Some things never change."
"Longinus is Longinus," Andre said, looking taught in a pair of Diesel jeans. He wore no shirt. "Strawberry-banana smoothie?"
"Good god no," I said, lighting a cigarette, "coffee and cigarette, thank you." I took my so-called breakfast out on the deck. The sun was already blazing not, it was a glorious day. After breakfast, Andre took me to a farmstand and we got Fire Island tomatoes. I have no idea what makes a Fire Island tomato different from a city one, but whatever. By the time we got back, Longinus was awake, puttering around in a red kimono.
"Who wants to go for a swim?" Longinus asked. "I know the caterer will be coming to set up, but it's hot as hell!" With that, he doffed his kimono in the kitchen to reveal a matching red bathing suit, and sauntered out of the house.
"I'll get my suit," I said.
And we had a swim, a nice refreshing dip. In the water with two homosexual men, I didn't care that my legs were short and fat, or that my breasts hung like...well, like boulders made of dough. The water was invigorating, and by the time we went back inside, the caterer and the bartender were, in fact, setting up.
"You'd better get a move on, Lady," I told Longinus, "you don't wanna be late to your own party."
"I'm never late," he said, "I make an entrance."
