On Safari
As the air heats up the animals come out of hibernation. On safari, in our fair city, all you need is a willingness to put on your all black camouflage and night vision lenses. Sometimes rare nocturnal creatures, that seek out dimly lit spaces, come to the watering hole.
Whether the flock is seeking summer flings, relationships, or adventure, mating season always makes for spectacular field study. New York City offers endless diversity. Exotic species abound if you are up for the journey into the unknown. Bird watching a la the Empire City…
Recent projects and clients lead me to go underground, incognito and on safari, watching from a safe distance and in some cases an outstretched hand at clandestine petting zoos.
I suggest going with daring friends who have a sense of humor, or fly solo, watching inconspicuously from the shadows. Strange sounds, mating calls and music hit the ears a long moment before the terrain comes into focus… rarely seen mating rituals are in play.
Someone stands in a corner with a look on their face and you read their thought; pondering the life choices that lead to this rabbit hole.
Suddenly you realize, the gene pool present is not like the Penthouse video or Playboy Mansion party of your fantasies. Unfortunately it’s more representative of Grand Central Station on a Saturday night after the last train has gone and the next one isn’t till the morning hours. Maybe five to ten cute club stranglers is a great turn out.
On one such occasion, I exited a risqué themed Halloween party at 4am to see the remains of a gay plushy party staggering out into the street from next door. Out came lions, tigers and bears. Who knew?
On a recent tour of a dungeon that resembled more of an industrial basement than the plush playroom in 50 Shades. I spotted a rotund fairy princess in a white sparkly tutu ensemble so tragic it burned indelibly into my retina almost blinding me.
Either way, even though you promised yourself to be open minded and non judgmental, still you leave with a smug sense of superiority and relief at your ‘normal ness’ by contrast. (Maybe)
‘Oh relief! I don’t need a shrink!’ I’m doing just fine with regular sessions with my hairdresser and Veuve Clicquot.
‘Kinky is fine, creepy is not’, would be my etiquette tip for these waters, along with, ‘don’t stick your hand in the cage when it’s not your pet without permission’.
Every subspecies has its own dance within its subculture. Study their behavior in the wild.
If one should come close, and tries to communicate, say you are just an observer in unfamiliar territory while waving your hands franticly in front of you. They might volunteer to answer questions and explain the local customs and lingo. If this occurs, listen and take notes. Fascinating.
You may feel somehow forever changed by your excursion and wish to giggle till you can’t breath with your pals over a boozy brunch, take a class and end up getting your rope knots badge or lock it a way deep in your heart, knowing nobody but you will ever know.
