The Night I Went to Snaxx.

After a year and a half of reading about Snaxx in NYC blogs, I finally went.

I didn’t know what to expect and I didn’t know how I’d fit in.

Like recently after WYSIWYG, I went to NoWhere bar with the gay bloggers. The night was called “Big Lug,” a party for big boys and their admirers. I unwittingly arrived before the blogger pack. I’d broken off to pick up my gym bag at the office, taking the subway up to 14th Street while the group walked. Sauntering in to the bar, a quick scan registered no one I knew. I bought a beer and I tried to blend in. Didn’t take long for me to get a bar stalker, a 6 foot plus scary dude. Rather than say anything to me, he would walk close and present his belly. Pushing the shirt taut with his girth, he’d paced back and forth, hoping I’d make initial contact.

Um… no.

The blogger pack eventually showed up whereupon thereafter I managed a protective blogger circle of at least two persons depth from my stalker(s). I attracted a braver one that at least elbowed me in passing. The party certainly felt more like “Runt” to me.

I digress… back to Snaxx.

I accompanied RoboCub, his BF RoboPapi and our friend, Alan on Friday night.

We’d arrived at the Westside Tavern to hear the doorman warn the incoming male/female couples that the downstairs was gay. That had some homophobic overtones, don’t you think? Ignoring it, we walked through the bar to the downstairs steps. Paying the cover, we walked down into the homosexual den of inequity.

Hmm… don’t know what I was getting all worked up about. It was simply a handsome group of guys hanging out.

DJ Gustavo was spinning some likable tunes. He was switching off with DJ Super Dave, who seriously needed to clean his records. DJ Honey Dijon was hanging out and couldn’t tolerate the skipping, intervening to pick the needle up and reset it.

Notably, I met Vasco and ran into Rod, whom I’d met at my “Big Lug” experience.
Surprise punching me in the chest was friend Oscar.

It was a good time.

FYI, Snaxx won’t be back till Sept. 8th.

Afterwards, Robocub, RoboPapi and I headed out to mr. Black to shake some tush. It was fun but short lived. Friend O believes that mr. Black is over because it’s been written up in the New York Times. While I’m loathe to agree with O, he may be right. The crowd didn’t have the same vibe as the last few times I’d been there.
Pity.

And that was the Night I Went to Snaxx.