(no subject)
I have returned from Atlantic City!
I had never been so it was a good surprise. According to Robert, it was Plan C as the other choices were destined for massive amounts of rain.
We stayed at The Tropicana's Havana Tower (60th floor), ate the most expensive dinner of my life, and gave my liver advance notice of a future transplantation.
I'm not a gambler so Atlantic City is far from my dream city but it was amusing to be surrounded by this artificial corner where humans dispose of money faster than they dispose of their trash. All skin colors, all creeds.. the blackjack tables looked like a portrait straight out of a UN brochure.
And yet with all this cosmetic diversity, the gay factor was missing big time. It became all too real as Robert and I walked along one street and the man walking the other way called us "patitos" (a spanish term meaning ducks, but when used derogatory, means faggot.) It's a good thing I wasn't completely wasted or I would taken that midget back to whatever 3rd world country he still has his 10 children living in.
Stereotypes get us so far in this life, don't they?
Anyhow, drinking made much of my time there very pleasant. We started by sharing a 1 liter vodka tonic on the bus ride to and pretty much didn't stop until I got back. It was like being hooked to an IV machine of martinis.
I was very happy coming back to the city, though. There are few moments of joy that can compete with the "returning to Manhattan" experience. But even better, returning "home."
June will be a very happy month.
I had never been so it was a good surprise. According to Robert, it was Plan C as the other choices were destined for massive amounts of rain.
We stayed at The Tropicana's Havana Tower (60th floor), ate the most expensive dinner of my life, and gave my liver advance notice of a future transplantation.
I'm not a gambler so Atlantic City is far from my dream city but it was amusing to be surrounded by this artificial corner where humans dispose of money faster than they dispose of their trash. All skin colors, all creeds.. the blackjack tables looked like a portrait straight out of a UN brochure.
And yet with all this cosmetic diversity, the gay factor was missing big time. It became all too real as Robert and I walked along one street and the man walking the other way called us "patitos" (a spanish term meaning ducks, but when used derogatory, means faggot.) It's a good thing I wasn't completely wasted or I would taken that midget back to whatever 3rd world country he still has his 10 children living in.
Stereotypes get us so far in this life, don't they?
Anyhow, drinking made much of my time there very pleasant. We started by sharing a 1 liter vodka tonic on the bus ride to and pretty much didn't stop until I got back. It was like being hooked to an IV machine of martinis.
I was very happy coming back to the city, though. There are few moments of joy that can compete with the "returning to Manhattan" experience. But even better, returning "home."
June will be a very happy month.