Fire Island

Just got back from Fire Island. In the span of 24 hours I walked on the beach, rode a ferry, a bus, a train, the subway and a taxi. Sweet.

Fire Island is great, but the only thing I question is how some people would travel all the way there to experience the same cocktail and drug induced atmosphere of a gay dance club in Manhattan. What's the diff? Pounding music is pounding music. Of course that's me just being bitter since, I was constantly ignored by the "beautiful" blonde white boys -- the same boys who would ignore me in Manahattan to begin with. LOL. Screw them I say. No cocktails (or "tea" as they call it in the Pines) for me -- I want to see the sexy bodies on the beach (and basically take a break from the city).

Bob invited me for the weekend in his house in the Pines, and I'm quite grateful that someone remembered me (although in fairness, I did turn down a movie on Friday and a matinee on Saturday -- it's a fluke weekend I tell you). It's nice that one could easily take a train from Manhattan to a clean and non-crowded beach -- if only there was less attitude. Bob incidentally is the best bridge player I know, and he's also invited me to some movies.

A creative shot of the pool:

Duke, an ABT connoisseur and my roommate for the night, was game enough to pose for me. Love the extension:

More pictures on Flickr:

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