My long-planned return trip to the queer-friendly mecca of Provincetown turned out to be a trip to what the press said was the Delta variant vortex, but my double vaxx ass always went, while still staying as tight as possible. But I was the only asshole!
Even if the clusters of covid positivity that began to explode in July have given some caution, nothing will stop a gay from opening a smile from both sides AND a bottle of champagne. In addition, the city had issued an indoor mask mandate on July 25, causing the number of covids to drop (although at this point the number of tourists has also dropped somewhat). And so, between enjoying the drag shows and soup in this charming yet hip Cape Cod, Massachusetts market town, I was reminded that it’s the social interactions that make Ptown the Queen.
As usual, I loved CREWS QUARTERS, a comfortable hotel where I always get good gossip and good times, especially since it is right on the main drag, Commercial Street. The place has a sexy retro vibe (there are male physique magazines in the lobby), but it’s down to the minute, thanks to the owner pouring drinks, vibrant pillows, and guests like the twink who m ‘said, “This is my first time in Provincetown on PrEP, so I hit rock bottom like crazy!” “
Food wise, I’m lucky that my two favorite places are outside: JOHN’S FOOTLONG (a deliciously lowbrow comfort food station near the pier edge) and BUBALAS BY THE BAY, where seafood and people watching are too, too divine, even though they sit us next to 15 screaming bachelorettes. Well done also for BAYSIDE BETSY’S, FORTUNE COOKIE (old school Chinese in the food court), SPIRITUS (pizzeria / skateboarder hangout), JOE COFFEE & CAFE and all the fudges, ice creams, ice creams and caramels for miles away . Extra points to the waitress at the Italian restaurant, who after entering, asked if we were still alive.
As for another type of oral fixation:
DICK QUAI
There might not have been the usual underwear parties, but this haven on the water, under the Boatslip pool deck, was in full bloom, especially around 1:30 a.m. (according to various friends and observers, I swear). A young queen told me he had found himself in the middle of a quad the night before and was coming back later to try and break his record. Another said ticks were flying around the dock, adding Lyme disease to potential threats in the air. “But I’m not worried,” he added. “When I get home, I’ll ask my doctor to give me a Z-Pak.” Gay people are so resourceful!
What’s touching (so to speak) about Dick Dock is that for once gays are out of their Grindr and looking for in-person sex. But the fact that it’s so dark you can’t see any faces adds a heartwarming touch of “You might as well have stayed on Grindr”.
DANCING TEA
Every day at 4 p.m. at the Boatslip, gays gathered on the pool deck for a fun and sociable experience to count on. It’s on a dock, but the only dick in the parade is wrapped in Speedos, hot pants or leather shorts, forcing real conversations to take place. LOTS of conversation, as the dance area to the side is sparsely populated, while the pool deck is filled with mature queens, lesbians, Bushwick dudes and bachelorettes having their latest fling with the nonconformity before s ‘settling in with a straight man. Cutouts of Mariah Carey were popping up from one of the rooms on the balcony, making us all a little more aware of our high marks, though the party-goers were still daring. “You meant so much to me in the ’90s,” a Southern queen told me, and in the good old days, I would’ve fallen in. “And what am I now? Chopped liver? but I just nodded in appreciation. Ptown really has a calming effect.
RED ROOM
A downstairs cabaret decked out in red velvet and silver sequins, this gem was hosted by singer / pianist Billy Hough, the fascinating child lover of Iggy Pop and Dusty Springfield, on Sunday night, and the following night , the home of the long night Gesellschaft, where a mixed crowd of vaxxers danced merrily amid the garland hangings.
In the street, someone criticized me for missing the Andrew Sullivan book party. I said, “He’s a horrible conservative. “No, he’s not,” he replied. “Alright,” I say. “He’s a WONDERFUL curator.” But sorry, I was busy chewing cut glass that night. And Ptown is a place where you never need to feel bad about missing something, because there is always something else – a better drag queen, a brighter penis. My lobster rolls were on fire all weekend! Thanks, Ptown.
