An incredible quadruple Gemini birthday party at Kim and Kyle Davis' apartment on Bleecker Street. Sean Hausman, Eric Goode, and Kim had hung blue and white balloons overhead. They had plastered xeroxed fotos of the four natal celebrants on the wall and illuminated the living room with a modulating blue lights. Punk and funk music. Beer and bourbon. Tons of people.
A ballerina said, "I saw you on 42nd Street. You entered a peep show. Do you like porno? Would you like to see me naked?"
"Yes."
By the bathroom door Alice entertained an audience about the poetry police. It was a funny spiel, but I had heard it a couple of times. Right as she started to get drunk. The ballerina led me out of the apartment in a slow motion pas de deux into the stair well. Her name is Dove. She tells me to keep my distance. I nodded, although my hands wanted to rip off her dress. She smiled at my distress and peeled the dress off her shoulders, as if under George Balanchine's direction. It fell to her feet. Her body was emaciated by dance, revealing every sinew, muscle, and bone. "My name is Dove. One day if we're lucky, we will fuck." Her hand drifted elegantly to her crotch and rubbed her labia, then licked her fingertips. She didn't offer them to me and I realized she was baiting me to take her against her will. It wasn't the first time a woman to misinterpret my innate propensity for violence as sexual.
"Like you said. Not tonight."
I returned to the party.
ANARCHY IN THE UK blasted on the stereo. Kyle chatted with Billy Flicker from Television. She is so in love with him and couldn't be happier with his attention solely hers.
Excessive enters and shouts, "Now the party begins."
I love him. He starts an argument with a bassist from the Testors. I step in.
"It's a party and if anyone is going to start a brawl, it's me. I'm one of the birthday people."
We spoke for a few minutes and somehow I diverted the two of us into a ballad of loneliness.
"Oh, wow. Not easy to be alone with this many people here for your birthday."
"Easier than you think."
I went over to Alice.
"Ignore me."
She drank a slug for 101 proof Bourbon, then silked away to hillbilly dance with Barbara, returning to the bathroom to extoll the virtues of hard drinking to those waiting for a piss. She was very funny. even the partygoers inside the toilet laughed at her humor.
Kim gets drunk with Marc Stevens, Mr 10 1/2 of porno fame. He whispers he wants to talk with me.
"Later." I glanced at his crotch and he smiled like to say it's all there.
Patrick shows up with a bottle of bourbon. I don't know how it became the drink of the party. He hands me a manifesto for the National Resurgence Party, which I promptly lose.
Ro shows up. I'm too drunk to form sentences. We score some speed, but Steve Forber steals half. Cyrena get her photo taken by Sean and his father. Roz shows as does William Lively and Andy Reese, then Clover. Alone, Blonde, Young. We spoke in the hallway, "I haven't been avoiding you. My Texan sponsor is in town. He leaves tomorrow."
Amos, Kim's love, is drunk and leans against the wall supported by wobbly knees.
Ann makes out with Excessive, who pukes and I have to sober him up in the kitchen with a bump of speed. Bruce and Lewis enter with gifts of a tie and hankercheif. Klaus comes with Claudia. Dark and mysterious in leather. I say nothing to her. Little John is drunk.
Kim's Greenwich friends become invisible. The bourbon has blurred everyone's vision and stripped away their inhibitions to the bone. It is the height of the Sexual Revolution and we are all rebels with a cause of flesh to flesh. Rhonda makes move on Alice. Anthony stands close as a voyeur, wishing he had been camera back from the repair shop. I speak to Sean about film and anarchy. Markey from the Ghosts has not stop dancing. Sweat flies off his body to UP BONDAGE UP YOURS. Rick Danger loses his leather jacket. Someone stole it. Marc invites me over to his apartment for some blow. He takes out his cock. Long and thick and not hard at all.
"Touch it, " he says, as if it was a pet snake.
His girlfriend, Jill Monro, enters the apartment.
We do some more lines and she hefts his limp cock.
"He does blow and he's useless in bed. Sweet, but useless."
I go back to the party. Eric is making out with a girl whose name I can't recall. It is not Alice.
"How big was it?" Klaus asks licking his lips.
"Go over and ask. I'm sure he'll show it to you."
He brings Andy Reese with him.
Clover and I kiss in the stairwell.
"One day you and me."
"What about now?" I know she wants me to have my way with her.
"One day."
Not tonight.
Alice hasn't spoke a word to me in hours. She's kissing one of the Greenwich girls.
The lights go out. A blown fuse. We light candles The beer runs out, so does the ice. We find R&B music on a transistor radio. We have plenty of bourbon. Creeps from CBGBs arrived at the door. I tell them to fuck off. William Lively cries when I refuse him. People puke over the railing in groups of two and three. Cyrena leaves with someone other than Sean. Alice is out cold on the couch. Kim and Amos are on the floor. There is no sign of Kyle or Billy. I bring back Alice to her sublet. I put her to bed and she slurs, "I wish you were David Bowie."
I did too and walk back to my SRO room on West 11th Street.
All and all it was a great party. .
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