I went to Provincetown.
I went to a party.
This man was the host:
This man was a guest:
He was wearing this shirt:
Before the party we went out here:
I was hanging out with this guy:
I'll spare you the shot of me in my bikini and instead show you this:
There was also a tiki bar involved.
I'd never done the east coast weekender before, it's a very strange scene. The streets were packed, riding our bikes down Commercial felt like a third world country, all foot traffic, no room for cars, bikes weaving in between pedestrians, near collisions happening constantly. The vacationers consisted primarily of athletically-built immaculately-groomed men. Nearly every snipped of conversation we heard as we rode out to the break water was pure gold (although no one really wants to hear the words, "speaking of cows..." while riding their bike past a gaggle of gays.)
I had a blast though. Provincetown seemed like the friendliest place in America. Seriously, I had multiple strangers come up to me and wish me a good summer, compliment my ability to run in heels, make fun of my bike riding ability (but in a pleasant manner) and one guy even made fun of a Belgian dressed like Pee Wee Herman to me.
Also of note in Ptown, a youngish mom giving her daughter Pop Rocks for the first time. Daughter reactions violently, spitting them out and rubbing her tongue. Mom points and doubles over laughing still holding the Blue Razz package in her hand.
Also of note, "My boss came to work at the motorcycle shop and told me he fucked George Michael last night."
Also someone had a story about their friend making out with Taylor Dayne. Yes, apparently Taylor Dayne enjoys getting felt up by young gays at parties on boats. The kid had no idea who it was he'd been making out with but it was the talk of Ptown according to the storyteller. The next morning the kid's mother whapped him on the head and asked, "What the hell is wrong with you? You madeout with Taylor Dayne. Do you have any idea how old that woman is?"
P.S. She's 46.