Happy Birthday, Bitsy!

My very good friend, Elizabeth “Bitsy” Mahon of Scandalous Women Blog fame had her birthday this month. To be perfectly exact, she’s had it twice–so far. She may be on her way to having a whole Birthday Month. If so, she has my total support.

Bitsy’s actual birthday is November 2nd, but this Saturday night was the blow-out bash held at The Dove Parlour–and yes, that’s “parlour” spelled the proper, British way. I’d been to The Dove a time or two, and I’m happy to report that Saturday night did not disappoint. Situated in the West Village, The Dove has all the trappings of a top tier Victorian brothel–crimson flocked wallpaper, ceilings with gilded molding, couches upon which to recline in shall we say a supine state and yes, cocktails with deliciously wicked names like the one I ordered, The Cherry Tart. As for Elizabeth, she looked absolutely stunningly sublime. Translation: smokin’.

Afterward, we decamped to decidely less posh environs, The Pyramid Club on Avenue A. The Pyramid offers two dance floors. On weekends, the upper one features 80’s hits and the lower level caters to the goth folks. If you’re thinking 80’s retro dance music equates to the PTA crowd, you haven’t yet ventured out to The Pyramid. The DJ’s two…um…performance artists were a master and gimp decked out in classic leather bondage gear. The pantomimed B/S was all in good fun until the head honcho–I guess we’ll call him Master Dude–took the theme way over the top by spewing a mouthful of water (God, I hope it was water) on not only Gimp Boy but on the rest of us, too. At the risk of coming off as out of touch, I have to say I’m in no way sympatico with the spitting. Frankly, even before the spitting, I’m really not sure what this quasi comical duo added. I mean, couldn’t we just dance? That spitting was apparently part of the act, an act paid for with my cover dollars, is well, a lot to wrap my mind around. It’s one thing to charge me a cover, but then to use said cover to support spitting on me is well, not positioning me to be your repeat customer.

Yes, I get that “White Wedding” was playing when said episode occurred. And okay, maybe Master Dude was channeling Billy Idol. I don’t know and frankly, I don’t care. Generally I’m a “live and let live” person, but spitting on me, well, that crosses a line.

Memo to Master Dude: the next time you role play B/S scenarios with your Gimp, kindly have the courtesy to confine any body fluid exchanges, including spittle, to the privacy of your respective caves. Memo to Pyramid Club: you might really not want to invite a lawsuit as this being New York, that dance floor probably included more than one attorney.

On the positive side, the tunes were top notch and yes, we rocked the house. It’s been a while since I’ve “walked like an Egyptian,” let alone felt like it was “raining men.” In retrospect, though, the piece de resistance of the evening was trudging back to the subway with Elizabeth and Liz Maverick, our styling dresses completely sweat-soaked, our feet swelling out of our totally hot but by now totally painful shoes. But then the best part of any night out is the friends who share it with you.

Happy Birthday Month, Elizabeth. May this be your best year yet!

Hugs,

Hope