BLARG! Postscript

Can it be only a week ago? Some of you may remember the blarg crawl thing that a bunch of us went on last Saturday. It started out at pieces, where the photo above was taken. Blogdaddy got us there twenty minutes before the scheduled meeting hour; right on time for Joe and nearly an hour early in Ed time. Aaron, who's internal clock must be set back even further than the ringmaster's, was already there. Pieces had a wonderful small town feeling to it, the way I imagine a gay bar in the tiny New England hamlet of my birth would look. I imagined for a moment, wandering into said home town bar, and encountering Mr. Halahan, a special education teacher in my Junior High School and also my first (male)crush. Back then, he was a tall muscular hairy chested blond with a droopy mustache and slick open necked guianna shirts as clingy as his double knit sansabelt slacks. I wondered how the years had treated Mr. Halahan, who'd be in his 50's by now, and recalled his habit of absent mindedly rubbing his chest through the unbuttoned placket of those garishly printed shirts when he spoke to the female teachers. A bottle of Brooklyn Brown was thrust into my hands , interrupting that reverie, and I returned to my reconnaissance. Staff and/or patrons had decorated the room for Valentines Day (which irritates me only slightly less than the similarly consumption driven Christmas) using red foil cut out hearts and Cupids stamped from the same dies as the ones stuck to the walls of my elementary school. Behind a glass door in back was a small stage where a brightly dressed fellow performed magic for a crowd of two dozen or so.
Otherwise, the place was pretty empty, though soon bloggers and not at all bad looking 30-something regulars started piling in. I met several folks I'd only known from their posts, and chattered away with them and others well known to me.
I would have spent the rest of the night there, crammed in the back in the way of the pool players, but this was a hop, so hop we did, out into the blizzard and West.

The rest of the evening is a little blurry.

Fortunately, others were not so handicapped, and wrote down their impressions, as collected here.
On Sunday we awoke to find the city frosted with snow and quieted by impassable streets. This was only the second time in NYC for such an all encompassing event. Truly beautiful.