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Suzi's House of Meat
May. 23rd, 2004 04:10 pmFrom the moment I approached the door of house no. 2, I knew I was leaving the sanctity of real life for another world. Little did I know how far I would travel into the shadows in the next couple of hours; descend into a world of debauchery and reckless mockery.
Taped to the door was a breast-shaped balloon, indicating to the initiated what kind of lugubrious deeds were about to be perpetrated in that address. The Host opened the door and led me into the house's living room. I was confronted by an unusual tableaux of characters ready to satiate their love of cooked flesh, alcohol and licentiousness. Men in outrageous attires stood and smoked. Others sat on the divan and stared at the songs being played on the TV. The Hostess stood in front of me, speaking into her cellphone, dressed in an outfit which suggested her command over all present: dark skirt, high heels, magenta hair, sunglasses - the wave of her hand said "hello"; her eyes said "who the hell are you?"
After inserting my beer into the fridge, I discarded my clothing and made my way to the garden. A man with long hair fanned the red coals underneath the grill. A table was set up, chairs covered with sand and cobwebs placed around it. Somebody screamed nearby , leading the Hostess to comment sotto voce "Oh shut up, it's just a barbeque."
It was sunny, which seemed displeasing to all involved. The light of the sun seemed to unmask the desecrations about to be committed, thrust into the open air the clear disregard these people held for decency and morals.
As alcohol was consumed, small patches of flesh were thrown on the grill. As the meat sizzled, the participants exchanged remarks about who-was-fucking-who in the kitchen, who was missing and who would never come. It was then that I heard the first of many accusations against my person: "oh, so you are the elusive..." or "ah, the mysterious...". Even the Hostess could not refrain herself from accusing me: "I thought (your decision to come to my party) was a red herring." Clearly, the boy who cried wolf.
I drank too fast, giggled with the only other gay male in attendance, spoke of 6am Formula 1 racing with a woman wielding a camcorder, heard what it was like to work for Disney or to work all day and have no time for Livejournal anymore. I think there was a lot of laughing at one point about the Muppets.
I said my quick goodbyes when I realized I was late for my next appointment. The last person to wish me goodbye was the Hostess. She held my hand and said "you have a lipstick mark on your neck."
I looked back at her and answered, surprised "noooooo."
Only later, outside, I realized she was taking the mickey. I made a silent promise to not let her get away from my merciless mockery the next time we meet.
****
Met up with Silke. Went downtown and met up with Kevin. Went to Thai restaurant and stuffed face. Went to cinema and watched Bad Education: Gay Fuck Spain Almodovar Brilliant Music Melodrama Fruit Loop Is Expanding.
Taped to the door was a breast-shaped balloon, indicating to the initiated what kind of lugubrious deeds were about to be perpetrated in that address. The Host opened the door and led me into the house's living room. I was confronted by an unusual tableaux of characters ready to satiate their love of cooked flesh, alcohol and licentiousness. Men in outrageous attires stood and smoked. Others sat on the divan and stared at the songs being played on the TV. The Hostess stood in front of me, speaking into her cellphone, dressed in an outfit which suggested her command over all present: dark skirt, high heels, magenta hair, sunglasses - the wave of her hand said "hello"; her eyes said "who the hell are you?"
After inserting my beer into the fridge, I discarded my clothing and made my way to the garden. A man with long hair fanned the red coals underneath the grill. A table was set up, chairs covered with sand and cobwebs placed around it. Somebody screamed nearby , leading the Hostess to comment sotto voce "Oh shut up, it's just a barbeque."
It was sunny, which seemed displeasing to all involved. The light of the sun seemed to unmask the desecrations about to be committed, thrust into the open air the clear disregard these people held for decency and morals.
As alcohol was consumed, small patches of flesh were thrown on the grill. As the meat sizzled, the participants exchanged remarks about who-was-fucking-who in the kitchen, who was missing and who would never come. It was then that I heard the first of many accusations against my person: "oh, so you are the elusive..." or "ah, the mysterious...". Even the Hostess could not refrain herself from accusing me: "I thought (your decision to come to my party) was a red herring." Clearly, the boy who cried wolf.
I drank too fast, giggled with the only other gay male in attendance, spoke of 6am Formula 1 racing with a woman wielding a camcorder, heard what it was like to work for Disney or to work all day and have no time for Livejournal anymore. I think there was a lot of laughing at one point about the Muppets.
I said my quick goodbyes when I realized I was late for my next appointment. The last person to wish me goodbye was the Hostess. She held my hand and said "you have a lipstick mark on your neck."
I looked back at her and answered, surprised "noooooo."
Only later, outside, I realized she was taking the mickey. I made a silent promise to not let her get away from my merciless mockery the next time we meet.
****
Met up with Silke. Went downtown and met up with Kevin. Went to Thai restaurant and stuffed face. Went to cinema and watched Bad Education: Gay Fuck Spain Almodovar Brilliant Music Melodrama Fruit Loop Is Expanding.
