Well, my very vanilla – no sprinkles – partner George would usually be down here in Lauderdale by now from our PA home, but since we bought a much larger place this fall, he hung around a bit longer to get everything in order.
Leaving poor lonely me to hit Lauderdale’s Leather Masked Ball.
Held on Saturday night of Thanksgiving weekend, the Leather Masked Ball is the gay social event of the official start of Season in Lauderdale. And no doubt it is full of hot guys, four hundred dollar outfits, and more bare asses than you’d find in a nursing home.
Hey, I even succumbed to buying that newest harness look, the bulldog, just to try looking hot, at an age when most of my leather, bought in the NYC days of my youth, should be on its way to the Salvation Army, or to Vietnam to be converted into Prada purses.
But I always find it ironic how the same guys you spend a pricey ticket (proceeds are supposed to go to gay charities but I heard we get only a fraction of what’s pulled in) and a couple of watered down drinks on to see are there for your viewing pleasure free of charge three hours later at the Ramrod, Lauderdale’s leather bar.
And how the same guys who were waiting for God at 10 are whipping their tools out for some poor bespectacled tourist to kiss in our sex club, Slammers at 2.
I know. I’m usually one of them.