Alcoholiday

It's five am and I'm sat in a diner in Greenwich Village eating a burger and fries whilst Mapstone talks to our two new friends; James and James.

It's all a bit vague. Mapstone is eating his turkey club like it might try and make a run for it. I'm pretty sure the cocktail stick holding it together has been swallowed whole.

I trace back our steps to the first drink eighteen hours earlier.

'Wiles, I am not drinking alcohol with breakfast.'

'It's not breakfast, it's brunch. Completely acceptable. And anyway, it's a Bloody Mary. It's a morning drink.'

He tuts.

'I'll have an orange juice.'

'Fine.'

I have a Bloody Mary (you get a free refill too).
I had NO idea about the brunch culture in New York. Everyone's at it.
A couple of days previously Jim had pointed out a popular brunch spot saying:

'Yeah, you see people outside at four pm vomiting. They go a bit nuts on the 'bottomless mimosas' deal.'
I check out the place on trip advisor and find the following reviews:
“We were there ten minutes before two fights broke out. Great Eggs Royale.”

“This place is awesome. I am soooooo drunk right now.”
“It's weird eating eggs when people are dancing around you.”
“Today will not end well.”
I decide it's a bit rich for Mapstone's first morning in New York and we opt instead for a little diner called The Dish where we eat pancakes with gallons of syrup and bacon.
It has been raining steadily since seven am and we're pondering what to do with our day.

'Well we could go and see The Empire State Building....'
'Yes,' I counter warily. 'And of course there's the walk in Central Park we absolutely must do....'
'Well yes...definitely...'

'Greenwich village is just down the road....'

'Oh, well perhaps we should just have a little stroll and see where it takes us...'

We appropriate two of Jim's umbrellas and stroll towards Greenwich enjoying the rain and the lack of commitment to any particular route.

'Isn't Stonewalls around here somewhere?'

We wander around casually and ask three separate people for directions until we finally....casually...stumble across Stonewalls. It's closed until two pm.
'Oh fuck it let's find a bar,' Mapstone says.
We do. We find a lovely cosy little place and sit at the bar where Mapstone deigns to have his first cocktail of the day. But by no means his last. Oh lord no.

A couple of hours and three cocktails each later I have fully updated Masptone on my obsession with John Nugent, the barman at The Old Town Bar.
'Goodness look at the time. Shall we pop over to Stonewalls and have a quick drink there?'
'Daft not to. Disrespectful in some ways.'

We walk in to arguably the most famous gay bar in the world and stop in our tracks. This is not gay by any name I know. The place is rammed with people wearing matching soccer vests screaming at a big screen whilst eating buffet chips and glugging down pints.
'What the fuck is this?'

We fight our way to the bar.

I order us some strong drinks and question the barman.

'This isn't what we were expecting AT ALL.'

He laughs. 'Yeah, big game today.'
Mapstone scurries off and returns with a listing of gay events.

'There's a drag show at ten pm here tonight.'

'We'll return then,' I say firmly and we down our drinks and leave.
We hop in a cab and head to The Old Town Bar because I happen to know in a completely un-stalkerish way that John Nugent is working today.
The moment he greets us I turn to Mapstone:

'D'you get it? D'you see what I mean?'
Mapstone nods.
'He's a character.'
'He's so much more than that. I adore him.'
John Nugent gets us some Guinness. And some port.
He tells us a bit about the history of the place in his Brooklyn drawl and I can see Mapstone is charmed by him too. Even more so when he asks for a Manhattan and it arrives perfect with a stemmed cherry at its base.

He takes one sip and says:
'I'm having another one of those.'

We leave an hour or so later with me checking a little too intensely with John Nugent that he is in fact definitely working on tuesday. I also plant the seed of possible Facebook friendship and he doesn't say no. Mapstone makes an interesting connection;
'You said he was like a Raymond Carver story. He looks a bit like Raymond Carver too. And Raymond Carver bears a resemblance to your father...'
'You're right. Perhaps I'm looking for a father figure in him. How bizarre.'
Old friends have a way of doing that. I've known Mapstone since we were sixteen.
On the way back to the apartment we stop at Chelsea Wines and buy white rum, ice, limes and sugar.

'A sort of daiquiri,' Mapstone says. 'Is there a cocktail shaker...ah yes, excellent.'
He makes a delicious cocktail, always has. We drink the first round and he heads off for a shower whilst I have a disco nap on the sofa. We then have another round and put on some New York themed music to which he grabs me and waltzes me around the room, spinning me like a top and dipping me like a...dippy thing whilst I scream; 'The art! Be careful around the art!'
It really was the only thing Jim was fairly insistent about.
'Please don't destroy the art.'
We're both giddy and Mapstone has finally realised he's in New York. We jump in a cab and head back to Stonewalls. The difference is incredible. The place is heaving again but this time it's populated by giant drag queens and complicated looking cocktails.
An eight foot Beetle Juice themed drag queen stops me.
'I LOVE your fur.'
'It's not real,' I say.

'Oh Honey, who gives a shit.' I'm home.
The show is an hour late starting by which time Mapstone and I have downed at least two large rum and cokes. He turns to me with a terribly earnest expression.
'Thea, I'm very very drunk. Can I have a glass of water.'
'No, you can't.'
I get him a large vodka and we head to the stage.
Most of the drag queens lip sync except one. A tall curvy black man with short hair who looks uncannily like Billy Holiday. He sings like an angel. I turn to tell Mapstone as much and find him talking to two men who are looking up at him with a mixture of amusement and confusion.
I lean over.
'He's terribly drunk.'
'But his accent is FAB-U-LOUS!'
Yes, I suppose it is.
We all head out for a cigarette together and Mapstone photo bombs a Liza Minelli drag queen. At this point everything becomes extremely funny.
Our new friends, James and his partner James invite us over the road to The Monster Bar;

'Everyone will migrate there in the next hour anyhow. Let's head over now.'
A very camp short man heads towards us brandishing an umbrella which he points accusingly at the James's.
'You abandoned me in there! Abandoned me! Just because I don't god damn well smoke! I hate you both! Hate you!'
He throws his scarf over his shoulder, turns dramatically, and storms off up the road.
We have another cigarette.
He returns and asks if we're heading over to The Monster.
We all go over together.
There's a cover charge to get in but it entitles you to a free drink.
'What are the facilities like in here?' Mapstone asks one of the James's.
'They're great!'
He heads off to find the toilet and returns two minutes later.
'There's a bunch of people sitting round a piano singing show tunes over there. And there's a dance floor downstairs. And the toilets are nothing more than a curtain.'
We meet some more people, the only one of which I remember vividly is a large gentleman who looks like a young Harvey Weinstein. He's sweet and a bit besotted with Mapstone who at this point is largely oblivious.
There are drag queens everywhere. All from fire island. A few legendary ones, Mother stands out. I take pictures of everyone. The bar man is at least 6 foot 6 and built like a brick shit house. We all swoon over him. There's laughter and stories and James doing a very good english accent for reasons I can no longer recall and then somehow it's four am and I'm hailing a cab and demanding to be taken to Coppelia for a burger.
We fall in to the apartment at around 5.30am and Mapstone says:
'Well that really was....it was just a.....and I'm very glad....what an extraordinary...y'know...'
I wholeheartedly agree with him and fall face first in to bed where a turin shroud like imprint of my face sinks in to the pillow.
Perhaps tomorrow we'll just take a in movie. Or have a look at that Empire State Building. Or something.