Studio 54 opens its doors 34 years ago. It changed the nightlife of the world. I was hanging out at CBGBs. We sneered at the discophiles. I visited the club that winter in leather and jeans. Everyone outside was in satin and glitter. The doorman pointed at me and waved for me to come forward. The crowd parted like the red Sea for Moses' staff. They liked strange in Studio 54. Flashing lights, poppers, and sleek skin.
I liked it too.
Tonight I'm sitting my Fort Greene apartment. The night is warm. I wasn't at Studio 34 years ago, but I'll try and make the 54th anniversary thanks to my years of clean living.
Scottie Taylor, a bartender at Studio, asked if those years of clean living were 1961 & 1962?
I answered him yes, but added 1963 and 1964. Paul Keenan and I started drinking the altar wine in 1965. His father was a druggist. We roofied the priest to keep his roman Catholic hands off us. Surplices and cheap wine in a church. Better than Studio 54 and twice as wicked. I know,because I've been to both places.
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