A Night on the Town: Thrust
As my summer drags on with countless hours of working and occassional friend interaction, I decided that I need some gay interaction. As quick background information, I will inform you that most (AKA basically 100%) of my friends at home in Orange County are heterosexual. Therefore, in an effort to go back to my "homosexual roots," I decided to embark on a trip with a few old acquaintances from high school to Orange County's renowned gay club, Thrust.
With a name like Thrust, I knew that my chances of finding Mr. Right were pretty high. Walking into Thrust (really Quan's Rockin' Sushi transformed into a mock set of Cher's farewell tour on Tuesday nights) was not like any other gay club I've been to before. There were no lines to speak of and there were fish tanks all around. Before I called up PETA for inhumane treatment of fish, I remembered that these exotic fish most likely of the Great Barrier Reef grew up with Kylie Minogue, so they were used to pulsating beats propelled by angelic voices.
While dancing, I felt out of place on many occasions. I don't have an immensely obese female friend to grind on and fondle. It's unfortunate that my female friends are too fit and/or too attractive to pull off being a gay man's clubbing companion. Also, my dance moves, though not quite holding a candle to the dance moves of the thrusting queenie twinks or the recently-outed-trying-to-fit-in-young-lads, have their roots with the all-time great sexy rock stars. Sexy rock stars [that know it] roll call: David Bowie, Jarvis Cocker, Michael Hutchence, Peter Murphy, Robert Plant, Jim Morrison, and Mick Jagger, to name a few. I don't emulate these fantastic crooners, but I do build upon their brilliant use of pout, stare, apathy, and shoulder movement. These moves simply move attention away from a person's inadequate, overly-slender frame to their true sexiness. Most of the music of Thrust made me cringe (especially the horrendous Black Eyed Peas song "My Humps") but I couldn't stop movin' to the groovin'. Sometimes I thought to myself, "I really shouldn't be gettin' down to songs by artists that I've panned in my reviews." Now for a quick poetic analysis of Thrust.
T = tolerance in the air
H = "Hi! how are ya?" said the desperate Hispanic boy
R = revolver that I needed during a drag queen performance of "Don't Cha?"
U = U as in "Since U Been Gone"
S = shower of sweat that I received dancing below the stage of the desperate Hispanic
T = tell me why I continue to even go clubbing