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Check-in TEXT not Video 9-12-22

Created via FB post; 9-12-22


DJ "SAM GEE" sucked ! Ewwww at Eagle 9-11-22 (Bobby Duran 2nd floor).


Sam Gee looked like the heavyset black dude with glasses that was playing like 3 weeks ago. I wonder if The Eagle just puts out fake news in terms of who's DJ'ing--kinda like all the fake news circulating on the Social Media platforms? I recognized some woman up there in the booth in the back...she must be doing some kind of "music prepping assistant" work, kind of like the mysterious "doctors" who sit in on my Zoom Doctor visits (the "silent listeners" who just observe and never speak!). I never different music upstairs; it appeared to be the same shitty music playing downstairs was just being piped upstairs too. Of course I left around 10 or so; so maybe it started later. Some young dude almost bowled me over making his way into the DJ booth upstairs. Work Work Work GURL--YOU GO!!!!

I do know that James Andersen playing last week was really good. And I remember him from the old TWILO days.


My visit last evening was marked by a very "humanistic" element. When I arrived (before 9 so I wouldn't have to pay the cover) immediately I heard that the tempo of the music was off. It was too fast. You can't speed up Diana Ross singing any dance tune and expect good sound, good beats. When I entered the "lobby" outside the coatcheck room there was a bunch of guy hanging out; so I took this to mean that the music was bad (and yes I heard it was sucking immediately upon entering). But when I entered the "main dance floor" everybody was having a party! Whistling, whooping, hooting, carefree, dancing men, lots of Gay sounds and joyful noise above the fray of the (what I thought was) awful music.


I looked with reverie and a tinge of sadness at the space where last week I had connected with Mr. "Rommel" the dentist from Spain. I saw the space where we must have been locked in a sensual embrace for at least 40 just kissing eachother, holding each other and I was resting my head on his big, aromatic shoulder). The same space where now, other strange men were dancing and Mr. Rommel was no where to be found.


Ahh, memories of being out and "alive again" in the world; as my continual recovery from the insulated, isolated M4M massage "work-world" continues. I am so treasuring this my latest phase of RECOVERY LOL!


I went up to the bar and my fav bartender "Larry" was absent. : (. So I got a my regular IPA and happened to be standing next to a very handsome, well built black man. So beautiful and tall. The face just wouldn't quit. I turned to him. "How do you like the music?" I asked. "I don't" he answered--with a somewhat wry smile. And yet it's like everyone here does! They all seem to be having a really good time!" We both laughed. I commiserated. "Maybe they are all making an extra effort" I commented trying to talk above the din of the awful music. "What with the rainy weather and it being 9-11..." He made another comment and some good-looking white guy came up and kissed him and rushed off. I said goodbye and headed upstairs. Later I regret leaving him. That could have been the beginning of something really nice, for in his presence, I noticed we "fit." Oh well...something you only notice these subtle things after the fact. The mystery that you would have liked to explore...the "what if's" of the moments that you share with a stranger; if only--the possibilities of a new friend...lost.


Up on the second floor the music was unfortunately the same as on the first floor. And a somewhat stout gentleman named Chris began a convo with me. We had a very pleasant exchange commenting on our mutual experiences on that dreaded day (he'd been in Washington D.C.! I had seen the 2nd tower fall from the roof of a neighboring building in the East Village). He had lost a few friends. But many people were saved, thank God. We agreed on that. I voiced my anger that it was ridiculous that the "powers that be" couldn't have saved the poor devils that were up on the roof-tops of both towers (waiting to be saved). Hello? Ladders from helicopters? But then thinking back I suppose the helicopters were paranoid that they were going to be caught and go down with the towers (?), I don't know. Chris was wearing a leather harness and mentioned he'd been out running earlier in the evening, for he loved running in the rain he said. I could smell his B.O. (he was rather "ripe," maybe he considered it part of the whole Eagle-leather costume "thing." I have never found hard core arm pit odor (or any kind of body odor) to be a turn on. Ever. Oh well.


Different strokes for different folks. Chris also mentioned that he had "weight issues" (referring to his pot belly portruding out of the leather harness down by his navel). While I was biking back to the East Village in the rain I was thinking "Jezus--if you have weight issues go on a fucking diet or just stop eating!" This ain't rocket science. These were thoughts I had after the fact. When Chris confessed his unhappy feelings about his body I responded with "Well, in my 20's and 30's when I was young and beautiful I could get pretty much whomever I wanted. Now that I'm a senior and fully experiencing the "degradation of being older" time is taking it's tool. But I try not to worry about how I look. I just consider my body to be a work of art, that is, happily I hope I am aging with beauty and grace like a fine wine! LOL." I am so luck to have my height (though I've lost 1 and 1.5 inches!) and a good facial bone structure, great legs, a meaty ass. Need I go on? (Embellishing here just for the sake of embellishing!).


Anyway Mr. Chris and I had a wonderful exchange. It was so nice to empathize with another man who'd been present and conscious of all the happenings that day. Chris offered to buy me a beer which I graciously accepted. I followed him to the bar; where this totally hot, short bartender (mini-hunk) got our drinks. I wonder if he was queer? I got a "gay for pay"vibe from him. He was hot nevertheless. At that point in the space running parallel to the bar, another totally hot hunk was dancing like there was no tomorrow (this queen was definitely gay) moving to the rhythm with a beautiful body that wouldn't stop; gorgeous arms articulating the beat, great upper body, legs, not so much but a hot ass; and smiling to beat the band. That was the greatest thing. He was open, friendly! And smiling while he danced--which made me wonder if he was a "Pro" (I mean--with a body like that too). Maybe a Go-go dancer. But was he "too old" for that? I so love the aging element of the men at the Eagle. I was of course entranced. I turned to Chris and said "I just love watching a hot man dance. Especially when he's good..." Chris smiled and began to take his leave. I thought that was rather weird after buying me a drink, but a part of my was relieved. I forgot to mention Chris had revealed to me that he played "Medieval Flute" among other instruments. This got me very excited and I told him about my great engineer Erik-Peter Mortensen and his prolific body of work of original, Medieval Choral compositions. I'm glad I could connect Chris with Erik. "But you know, Erik isn't Gay" I said. "Although he is definitely one of the least homophobic musicians I've ever worked with in my life!" That's probably why we've managed to remain working together for more than two years.


I found Erik through "K" (aka "Fuentes de Vida") and I found "K" though my work doing the New Warrior Training in the Mankind project. I tried to share a bit of that with Chris but I got the impression he didn't want to hear more about that. Was I "running on" too much about having re-disovered my love of music vis-a-vis the Mankind Project?" I'm sure.


After Chris left I went downstairs and noticed I was getting drunk (which I really hate when I get that way at The Eagle or anywhere in public really. I went into the toilet and poured the beer in the sink. Then drank a ton of water and went back to to the main dance floor where at this point the stimulation of the irritating music and the lights stabbing my eyes was feeling like torture. I left then and went outside, it was softly, warmly raining. As I unlocked my bike I saw an extremely gorgeous man exiting a ride and running into the entrance, followed by another and another. A-ha, I thought, so THIS is where all the hot masseurs go to get away from the drone and boredom of their work...or maybe just another tourist spot for homosexuals to find other like-minded men who want to get off. Ten or twenty years ago I probably would have been staying in spite of the sickening music to search for muscle and dick (memories of the basement crowd in the dark in the "Cockring." Oh those sweet days of cruising in the dark. Gone forever. No more. Getting completely drenched in the rain riding home felt fabulous.


All in all my experiences at the Eagle last night were a mini adventure (again) in my search for a tribe, a group, a place to go and play and meet other like-minded men. And of course, the hope I can find new friends and lovers. A joy to rediscover and a very welcomed relief from the all-too-youthful environs of the East Village with it's continual parade of NYU co-eds, ("clueless children") and tourists. But in the laundermat earlier that day one young boy was very nice when he picked up a bookmark that the huge fan and "Gentle Wash" blew out of my hand and landed on the floor. "Thank you" I said warmly. Acts of kindness from children are so deeply appreciated. It's so easy to fall in love with boys. Their energy shines like gold. But underneath, the innocence is such a bore.


I seem to have discovered a sanctuary in the bedroom AWAY from the constant, bumping, knocking and stomping of the straight water-buffalo couple upstairs. OH JOY. I must get my computer, synthesizer workstation ordered. Then I can record in peace. Thank God for three rooms in this "squat!" Either that or if I need-- a move. More and more making money from the sublet will more than make up for the anemic massage business. These low numbers are hardly with the effort. Must must MUST register on that CSX site. There is so much work! And yet--I'm afraid of the very concept...of....WORK LOL.


Saintorr 9-12-22

#nycmasseur #nycmasseur.com #saintorr #steveorwhat

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