We GAYS don't wait in line! (*well unless its for a Barneys Sale. Or Hiro on a long weekend. Or for...nevermind)

So on Saturday night, my beautiful friend EO had her birthday party at ps450 - a bar on Park Ave not too far from my apartment. This of course was after another friend's going away party, so it's safe to say I had been pretty drunk since 5 pm that day.

And, well anyone that knows me and extended, day-long drinking knows some sort of sad or hilarious or sadly hilarious situations will eventually transpire. Whether it me be bitching someone out for no reason whatsoever, me trying to make out with a friend for no reason whatsoever, or me calling the ex-boyfriend for no reason whatsoever, a good time is usually had by all. Ha - I kid - it's usually not that tragic - only mildly so.

Well, so we've been at ps450 for a while now. It's probably around midnight - 1 am, when I tell Nay he should come. He agrees (I think) but I warn him that he'll have to wait in the long-ass line with a bunch of Murray Hill heteros - i.e.: J.A.P.S and fratboy-cum-ibankers. This, of course, is frightening for any gay man. I ask EO if she can help him skip the line, and she says she'd try her best. Well, my drunk ass of course doesn't think this is enough, and the thought of my poor Nay suffering in line with a bunch of 'ros was too much to handle.

"EO, GAYS don't wait in line!" I tell her. I of course don't remember telling her this, because, well, 1 - I was completely gone, and 2- it's totally a lie(can we say 45 minutes waiting to get into Hiro over the long weekends, much?)

But no it didn't stop there. EO tells me a few days later that I was "harassing our friends about Nay coming" and that one of our friends even came up to her and said I was worried b/c "gays don't wait in line."

Of course I don't remember any of this, and maybe I'm dramatizing it a bit much but its just funny b/c I realize that when I hang out with my straight friends, its always ME that differentiates myself as being gay rather than my hetero friends. For some reason I HAVE to point it out while plastered at a straight bar. My inner Mary comes out to play. Maybe its a cry for help? A way of letting the other gays that might be at the bar know I'm there too?