I’m guessing that you had no idea there was a Fire Island in Tennessee.  Am I right?  Well, there wasn’t until around 3am Sunday morning.  That’s when I became the reluctant co-hostess of a LGBT pool party.

Buck and I were dog and house sitting for his sister and brother-in-law for the holiday weekend and we decided to go out Saturday night.  We went out to the gay bar and had an alright time.  It wasn’t anything crazy.  Just hanging out drinking and talking mostly.  After the last drag show, around 2:00 am, we invited a couple of our friends to come over afterwards.  Little did we know that a couple would turn into fifty.

We left the bar about 2:30 am and went back to the house.  By 2:45 am people started showing up…lots of people.  At 3:15 am I was outside at the pool, and Buck was inside somewhere.  Then I got a text from Buck that asked, “You got this?”  Yeah, right.  I was doing my best to keep them out of the liquor cabinet and to keep them from waking the neighbors.  I wasn’t doing a very good job on that last part because the next thing I know there are at least two completely naked boys in the pool, one naked drag queen, a dozen other twinkie boys in the pool, and dozens more surrounding the pool.  Oh, and the half dozen sitting at the table in the corner smoking.  It was a sight to behold, that’s for sure.  I don’t think I’ve ever been so shocked, terrified, turned on, and amused all at the same time before.

O.M.G.  Not a pic of the actual party, but close enough.

Around 3:45 am I went upstairs to the balcony and looked out over the spectacle below me.  It was insane.  If there hadn’t been any other houses around, and no neighbors who might potentially call the cops, and if it had been my house, I would have let it go on till daylight.  However, none of that was true, so they had to go.

I started clearing them out of the house with the help of a very nice young man who volunteered.  Bless his heart.  At 4:09 am I sent Buck a text that said, “Ok. They’re clearing out upstairs.”  He was downstairs doing the same thing.  Overall it took another half hour or so to get them all out, with the exception of Sister-wife, the one who invited them all, her man of the evening, and a cute young nice boy who Sister-wife kept trying to convince me to take to my room, along with Buck, and have some fun with him.  I politely refused.

They ended up staying over and sleeping in the guest rooms.  Come late morning they all got up and left, and then it was time to survey the damage.  Oh, my, God.  It was bad, very, very bad.  There were beer bottles, cans, cigarette butts, and towels everywhere.  Oh, and poop.  Yes, there was a pile of poop on the concrete by the pool.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, someone had stepped in it during the mass exodus and tracked it down the side walk.

Now, we were doggy sitting two large dogs, but they were inside in the bedroom the entire time.  Therefore, it was not dog poop.  I don’t want to even think about how or why, but it was gross and extremely rude.  If I were to ever find out who did it, which is unlikely, I would have more than just a piece of my mind to share with the unfortunate boy.

The next two days were spent cleaning up and disinfecting everything.  It gives a whole new meaning to Labor Day for me.  Buck’s sister came home Tuesday.  We hadn’t mentioned the disaster of a party to her, and we weren’t going to.  Since we did our best to clean everything up and make it spotless we thought she’d never know.  We were wrong.  Tuesday she sent him a picture of her holding a bangle bracelet.  She asked if we lost something or if it belonged to one of the five people who woke up her neighbors at 3:30 am Sunday morning.  Ha.  If only she knew that she was off by a zero.  She’s since forgiven us, and we’ve still not told her that the 5 were actually 50.

I would like to make it perfectly clear that I love the LGBT community.  Obviously.  I’m bi and my life-partner (soon to be husband – maybe – stay tuned) is bi.  I don’t give a shit who people love and/or fuck, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone, unless they want it to hurt. 😉

Oh, and did I mention that I also broke my pinky toe Saturday?  I did.  And it hurts.  A lot.  That’s all.

Song for this post: Katy Perry – Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.)

That was my weekend.  How was your Labor Day Weekend?

Peace, love, & happiness.