Beers and Brats and Boys

To say that Saturday night was surreal is probably an understatement. I recovered quite quickly from Friday night's Zoo Benefit and emerged at a respectable hour on Saturday morning. We took Preston to the beauty parlour for his semi-regular fluff and coiff, and then we took a bus Downtown to see Jen and Vince in "The Break Up". Critics be hanged; I liked it.

After a short disco nap at home, Josh and Lexie joined me on the train to meet Caro and head out to Lincoln Square for the annual "Mayfest" celebration - akin to Adelaide's Schutzenfest beer festival. Having loaded up on food/drink tickets, I sweated it out in the beer tent with Josh to jostle for a stein full of domestic beer.

I must be ageing in light years, because I couldn't read the signage and I couldn't see the beer taps so I had no idea what I was ordering. Plus I'm short, so I was effectively getting trampled, and coming to blows with pointy elbows belonging to tall, drunk people. Not happy, Jan. But once I'd been served and feeling a little less frustrated, I gripped my full beer stein with both hands and made a beeline for the fresh air outside. A brat sandwich later and I was feeling happier. After a second beer stein, of imported German beer this time, I was smiling more and even perked up enough to challenge Josh and Lexie at one of the sideshow alley games on offer. None of us won any prizes, but I didn't care.

Further down the street, the decision not to use the port-a-loos at Mayfest caught up with me and I desperately needed to go. And when you've gotta go, you've gotta go.

Calling into our friendly neighbourhood Macedonian bar (cause every good town has at least one), we had some local brew, mingled with the Mafia, got serenaded by a warbling minstrel and watched two underage dancers strut their stuff around the room.

Having made the very sensible decision to leave, we ended up on Halsted, in the very heart and soul of Boys Town. The pretty people were out in full force at Roscoes and I was having a great time. Loads of very hot men in very little clothing, but with fabulous big smiles all performing for each other. It was nice to know that I didn't have to try and look good - which was tricky anyway given the US, German, and Macedonian beer sloshing around inside of me.

Bidding farewell to Courts and Caro, we continued the walk up Halsted towards home. Stopping, as you do, at a very peculiar adult store. But don't worry - the gifts I bought myself were remarkably PG-rated and not battery operated or inflatable, so we can all breathe a sigh of relief.

So the night was beer, brats, and boys - what a fabulous evening.