After working 12 hours straight on Friday and then still going out to see my friend Danna, I went out after that to a club called Ha’Oman 17. It was the 10th anniversary of the popular Israeli sex dating site Atraf that everybody knows and uses.
Holy shit, you guys! I had no idea this place existed. You mean they have bi-weekly gay dance parties here, alternating with the weeks Big Boys is off?
Where as Big Boys is fun and all, but has music that would be scoffed at by true clubbers as just literally spinning the baby pop hits, this was true, serious tribal house music that flowed and built upon itself and took the dancefloor on a journey. A shirtless journey, I might add. There was a second room of spinning, for the poppier crowd – although just like Andy Anderson’s awesome top room at Roxy circa 2000, it had all the twinks, chubs and fag hags in it. The real action was in the main room, where DJ Hector Romero was spinning.
There were plenty of tweakers – peeps on Meth or Ecstasy. You can tell by their tweaked out eyes. But no matter, I got into the awesome music and being in the center of all that Sexy Jewish Guy Israeli Shirtlessness. I can’t believe this party has been going on every other week, and I am only just finding out about it. Not that I’d want to go every week, but every now and then – fo’ sho.
I didn’t really meet anyone, but then I usually don’t meet guys in bars or clubs. Not for lack of trying; I just find that usually the guys I am really into aren’t into me, and conversely I get followed around by a pack o’ trolls I can’t get rid of. Although I may have had one or two bouts of dance floor kissing and/or dirty dancing. Here’s a buncha pix. I was tweeting and sending to Twitpic like a mofo. Not like I was removing myself from and missing out on the immediacy of my surroundings, more like feeling so happy I had to share it:
Showing off a little butt cleavage is a very real thing here for the twink set
It was fascinating though – inside the club, I couldda been in New York. The beats were Grade A, and the boys were a step above what I’d find on the dance floor in New York, at least for my tastes. But, then you’d step outside, and we were like in some industrial alley that looked like….well, the Middle East. Plus, do you have to pass through metal detectors when you go clubbing?
Around 7am, I got my jacket and left the club….almost. I got outside and heard a souped up version of “We Are Family” come on, to re-energize the floor now that the smaller room had closed and the separate crowds were coming together. Like any good Gay, I 180°d and went back inside. Danced for like another hour. Fun, fun times!
Flag Boy Werks It Out
Leaving a club after hours of shirtless beats, fierce lighting and dangerous dBs and entering into the tranquility of a new dawn is a really special moment, I’ve always found – a real sweet spot. Something about traveling thru the wormhole of intense tribal dance journey into the calm promise of a fresh day is just presh. Of course, it’s also the reason God invented shades. I snapped these pics on my bike ride home.
Somehow I think we're not on the dance floor anymore, Toto.
This graffiti artist's work is all over town. He always draws these spacey werewolf creatures.
I'm guessing the name of this other party is officially "See You Next Tuesday" and happens on Tues nights. Clever and....'sassy!'
I was totes ready to sleep all day. But my boy Pete needed to go out, as he was at the upper range of his bladder capacity after being crated for nearly 8 hours. Plus, since he had just gotten a ton of rest, a walk around the block wasn’t going to cut it. If I wanted to really get some shut eye, I was going to have to tire him out. So, I armored up with the shades, and we went to the dog park for an hour. Mission accomplished. We both crashed upon returning, and got up around 8:30 p.m.
I was delivered after a week of entirely too much work. Thank you, God.
After bowling, we got some grub at Karnaf, which was delicious and probably the closest I will come in Israel to experiencing my beloved and jonesed-for Chipotle. Then, I dashed home to take Petey for a quick walk and set off on my bike to The Theatre Club in Jaffo for the Big Boys party.
You’ll see in my next iGoogled column when it comes out tomorrow that yesterday was a really significant anniversary for me. One year ago on Christmas, I arrived in Israel for the very first time. I was here for a two-week vacation, but we all know now that I wound up making Aliyah as soon as I returned home on January 9, and quickly returned as an Oleh Chadash (new immigrant) on March 1, 2009.
As I wrote the iGoogle piece yesterday, I was playing Xmas music. I actually haven’t been missing “the holidays” (Xmas, New Years) as we typically celebrate them this time of year in the US. I’ve been getting the holiday theme from American websites and blogs I read regularly, so it hasn’t flown under my radar. And then, I also really enjoy the bizzaro aspect of life in Israel, meaning that – I really enjoy being part of the Majority, where the dominant holiday is not Christmas; it’s Hanukkah. Token menorahs are not tacked onto ubiquitous Xmas displays; it’s Christmas trees that are the token inclusionary symbol. In fact, I really didn’t see one at all in Israel the whole month of December.
But then, as I was writing yesterday, I one-eighty’d and suddenly wanted to hear all secular carols – Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, The Christmas Song, Frosty the Snowman, etc. And I really enjoyed singing them out loud on my bicycle as I passed by people on the sidewalk. I was getting off on the contrarian aspect of it, as well as feeling a resurgence of my inner American, which of course I still am and will always be.
So, who does celebrate Christmas in Israel? I don’t mean the birth of Jesus and all that shiz. I mean the good secular, commercial, pagan stuff – Santa, the North Pole, Rudolph, elves.
The Gays, that’s who !!!
Big Boys was completely done up with Christmas trees everywhere, Santa bartenders and red & white cap adorned GoGo Boys. 🙂 It was really fun, and I danced up a storm with my friends Russell, Shabi and all the other hot mens.
Here’s a few more shots from the dance floor:
I'll have a diet Red Bull, Santa.
Last week I wrote about having a really fun time at Big Boys, a bi-weekly dance party for gay guys over 30. One of the cool things about the night was this guy I randomly met on the dance floor. Some of his friends knew some of my friends, and that’s how we all wound up dancing together.
Look, I showed him this blog, so it’s very possible he’s reading this, so I have to be careful not to come off even more psycho. But this is REALLY where I’m at now, and this is what I know to do about it, so – here goes.
It’s actually nothing major. The friends were Olim (immigrants to Israel) who had been here for 20+ years, so I assumed the same thing about this guy. It turns out he’s right off the boat, only here a few weeks. Then, we really quickly established that we’re from the same small suburb from Pennsylvania. It was really some coincidence!
We seemed to click and made a date to have coffee this week. We enjoyed one another’s company and the chemistry was there, too. We talked a bunch more times during the week on the phone and went out again last night.
That’s when he told me at the end of the date that he “doesn’t know what he wants.”
Actually, I can’t fault the guy. I know right where he is; it was me less than a year ago. He’s just landed in a new country, doesn’t speak the language, is finding a place to live, doesn’t have a job yet. Absolutely no need for me take this personally, because it’s not meant that way. No sour grapes.
But I’m disappointed, and all I can do is feel that until it passes. Well, that and eat lots of high-fructose corn syrup and saturated fat. Already coming off of Hanukkah (when we eat lots of sufganote, or powdered jelly donuts), I’ve had about 10 danish and 6 “Fastbreak” candybars since yesterday. Sorry, but cottage cheese with Splenda was just not going to cut it. At least I didn’t go the Ben & Jerry’s route. This display had more carbs but not as much fat.
Actually, I’m kinda pleased with my tummy photo up there. It’s really not that bad. And if that’s what I look like at close range without ‘sucking it in’ and after a major pig out…I’m doin’ alright. Anyway, back to the gym hardcore tomorrow.
As I wrote about a few weeks ago in my iGoogledIsrael column, while there are resident gay bars in TLV, a lot of the nightlife scene revolves around independently promoted parties that happen weekly in usually straight venues. Big Boys is one of these that happens in a big space in Jaffo called The Theatre Club. The “big” in the title refers to men over 30, not bears.
Serious gay clubbers would scoff at the music. It’s not pro-spinning for sure, though we do have that in Israel. There are huge after-hours parties with “real” DJs like Offer Nissim who spin the latest original mixes with creative transitions, etc. This isn’t that. It’s mainly europop and dancepop like GaGa, Madonna, and Beyonce, and I’m cool with that. As for the guys, it’s a bit like shopping at Marshall’s: there are good finds there, but you have to look through a lot of crap to find them. Plus, I like that unlike most bars in Tel Aviv, they don’t allow smoking inside.
Anyway, I met my friend Danny there last Friday night, and we met up with our friends Russell and Avi, and then I met a new Oleh who turned out to be from my exact small town in suburban Philly (We Are! U.D.!), and the music was pretty good.
This shot is from my BlackBerry cam on the dancefloor.
If you read G-Fish regularly, you’ll know that Petey practically thinks his name is Ehzay Chamood (Hebrew for What a cutie!). Girls and guys are powerless to his cuteness charms. But so far, it hadn’t translated into putting a ring on my finger.
Until now?
There’s a very cute physical therapist I went out with back in April. I really liked him. It wasn’t just his (very good!) looks. It was this über kindness & chill vibe he exuded. So, I asked him out again, but he told me he had a boyfriend.
😦
But did he really? I had reason to suspect this wasn’t true. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. He lives in the neighborhood, and we have always been friendly when we bump into each other.
Well, last week, Pete and I ran into him and his dog on the island/walkway in the middle of a boulevard. Of course, he was very taken with Pete. We caught up while Petey and his dog played with one another. I was thinking it, but rejoiced inside when he said Wow, they play so nice with one another. You should both come over sometime, and we’ll have a coffee while the dogs play.
SCORE !!!
Even if he was thinking only of the dogs and not trying to just get me to come over –
So what !?!
Petey and I are so going over there and colluding to make him my husband! So, I waited a couple of days and then texted my future husband him Hey, Petey and I would really like to come over for a playdate. He responded pretty quickly with Great!
So, we aimed for this weekend, but it didn’t happen, because I had such an incredibly booked weekend. But we did speak, and we’re going to make the playdate happen this week.
Petey is eating filet mignon this week.
Some background: So, back in June a guy messaged me on Atraf. A hot guy. A really hot guy. He was Israeli, but had been living in the U.S. a few years attending school, and had just returned here. The Tel Aviv gay pride parade was coming up in a few days, so I asked him if he would like to meet for coffee after it. He told me he was skipping the parade this year. Meanwhile, we friended each other on Facebook. Then, a few days after the parade, I see his pics from the parade in my Facebook newsfeed. Liar and dumbass. But I didn’t want to start a potential friendship off by saying, So, you’re a liar, huh? plus, he was still totally hot, so I just ignored it.
Tried asking him out once or twice more, and made a few comments on his posted photos and status updates on FB. Zip response.
So then, I wrote a few weeks ago about how he sat down next to this Incredible Hunk who was on the blanket next to me at Hilton Beach. I couldn’t resist snapping a few pics of The Hunk’s butt, which was totally spread out in all of its ravishing majesty right in front of me. I posted my pics both on Facebook and G-Fish (my nickname for this blog). I took them down from FB after a few days. (I’m not one for uploading lotsa pics to FB. These were always meant to be up only temporarily – just to grab the attention of friends back in NY. Mission accomplished!)
OK, you’re caught up now. קדימה… Two days after that, The Hunk comes up to me at Lima Lima, a bar that has a really cool gay party on Monday nights. He recognized the Hebrew tattoo I have on my left bicep. I really love this party, but I hadn’t been since April, b/c it gets going at midnight, and I always have school the next morning. But you can only backburner a social life for so long, and I needed to get out there. Me and Hunky wound up sharing a taxi home. Never mind that I had ridden my bike to the club, and just left it chained to a pole so I wouldn’t miss this opportunity.
Fast forward to the next weekend. I’m at Hilton Beach again with a new friend from New York considering making Aliyah. Amanda That Bitch The original Hot Guy from Atraf shows up and makes a face and wincing sound/expression, like OOOooohhhhh…. I’m like What? He’s like You put pictures of us up. I’m like Oh, you mean on my blog? (D’oh !!) He’s like No, on Facebook. I’m like Oh, maybe that’s why he ignored my friend request on Facebook this past week. Was he [The Hunk] upset about that? Amanda That Bitch Hot Guy gives a long, dramatic pause and goes Well, let’s just say that before you post pics of somebody’s ass like that online, you should really ask them. I’m like, But I took them down already. And you couldn’t even see his face in them or tell his identity. And I wasn’t even introduced to him until two days after those pics were taken. He does more of his passive-aggressive-trying-to-make-me-feel-guilty-schtick and walks away.
I feel bad, but it’s a beautiful day at the beach and I’m having fun with friends, so I just decide to call him when I get home and apologize. When I call later, he doesn’t pick up, nor does it go to voicemail. So, I send him a message on Facebook apologizing.
I can’t resist turning this over in my mind that night, when I have an A-ha !! moment. It was totally Hot Guy who told The Hunk about the pics! OMG, he is totally backstabbing Amanda from Melrose Place! Totes !!! Hunky was never my friend on FB, so he never could have seen the pics unless Hot Guy forwarded them to him. That bitch! So, I just quietly unfriended her from FB and Atraf. No need to make dramz, but certainly don’t need phony weasels like her in my life, either.
Coda: Hunky replied a day or two later, saying that Hot Guy had told him about the posted pics, but that he (The Hunk) didn’t care and totally wasn’t mad at all. He didn’t accept my friend request only b/c he’s hardly ever on FB and only uses it to talk to friends overseas; in fact he is anti-Facebook for communicating with local friends where you can just pick up the phone. Oh. Plus he’s not looking for anything serious right now. 😦
Update: Saw The Hunk this morning in Nachalat Binyamin Market, where I was walking with a GF, admiring crafts. Said hello, but he was on phone, so didn’t get a chance to talk and kept walking. But at least it was a friendly, normal exchange.
Gefilte Fish Out of Water 