Summer has Started...

Surf crashed against the shore below the bluffs as up on the roof of the cafe the band tootled and bleated to a hot Caribbean beat. Crowds of exjunkies and alkies breathing out Hepatitis C mingled about drinking and eating and talking. Smoke wafted off of the terrace from both cigarettes and marijuana - and Your Reporter was right in the thick of it.

The sun beat down on this rather pleasant day. It was the 50th Birthday party of expat American writer Robert Smallwood - all the beach folk were present feeding off of traditional New Orleans cuisine prepared by said host like beasts feeding on Animal Planet.

Strange characters waved in and out of my blurred intoxicated vision - a male stripper who wouldn't strip, short black lesbian dwarf dispensing marijuana wares like some freaky Santa Clause, cake fight with the host, downing an entire apple pie with the help of some hottie who wandered up off the street, salsa and meringue music from that band that won't quit, handsome boys fluttered in and out of focus...

I thought I'd be the only faggito in this bunch of hetros - but as the booze began flowing, the fags were leaping out of the woodwork. Phone numbers and emails were exchanged and sly coy comments uttered. The rest of the crowd was pleasantly drunk...so, I didn't interfere.

What a perfect start for the summer, I recollected like a feeble old woman - but, fun never lasts and I returned to my private shade...