Fire island, the New York coastline’s epicenter of getting weird, has had its final visit from Bebemuchacha. Yes, it’s true. My crazy ass is finally too old to chug Rocket Fuel at CJ’s. Too old to boot and rally off of various porches and side streets only to have the vom smell covered up my a stick of gum and a spritz of Burberry Brit. Too old to lie to every 5’11 shmeebler that went to Wisconsin or Emory or Lehigh or f-ing SYRACUSE that I’m “23.” Too old to fist-pump to Don’t Stop Believin while a guido from Jericho who bumps into my bungus and pours his vodka tonic all over my skank tank.
Yo Old ass should know better than that…
It’s a tough break, I can’t deny it. We gave eachother 5 solid summers of glory, shame, Golden Girls-inspired beach coverups, and enough tequila-infused RENT/Grease sing-a-longs to keep half of Chelsea’s gay community entertained for the better part of a lifetime. Sometimes I even feel like the modern day Ulysses on the Land of the Lotus Eaters
godforsaken landing strip of sand, but instead of a Siren Song leading us into perilous waters, it’s Carly Rae Jepsen calling out to my my rowers, who heckle me about using a fake southern accent.
But enough is enough. My eye is literally twitching in pain from giving the stink eye to so many of the likes of Jordannaaaaa and Shoshannaaaaa and Ali at Albatross wearing matching rompers and gladiator sandals. Let’s stroll down that beach walk, pass a rabid Deer and a walk of shame or two, and think about some of the fonder memories of our south shore frolicking. What will we miss most?
1. John the Cop.
2. The Ferry. So pleasant, the sun in your hair, the wind in your face, Long Island at your back, and the first opportunity to scope out this weekend’s recruits.
3. Jordan the Butt Pirate
4. Essie-themed rounds of Categories during Kings. Expose your Toes! Ballet Slippers! Mod Squad! Funny Face! Russian Roulette! South of the Highway! FIJI!
5. Outdoor Showers stocked with Suave’s Ocean Breeze Shampoo & Conditioner.
6. The Lady Rape.
7. Having an endless supply of Excedrin, Makeup-Wipes, Gatorade, and Aerosol Hair Products.
9. Judging bitches on the beach. Counting the # of Trina Turk bathing suits or townies with tatoos. Now THIS is why they invented sunglasses.
10. The MUSIC. From McGuires to Bocce; Not even in Murray Hill will you hear such utterly perfect, random, and triumphant mixes of 80s hair bands/stripper anthems and Britney as you will on a Saturday night in Ocean Beach.
11. “It ain’t easy being Beezy.”
13. The Australian.
14. Waking up in a house where 75% of its inhabitants are wearing sleep masks. Nude.
15. Flynn’s on Sundays
15. Discovering that Satan does in fact exist in the form of a vulgar midget on an aerobed and that he lives on the lower east side and has a magical layer of Hastings loyalty protection that cannot be lifted.
16. $5 ATM fees. SIKE.
17. Drawing visual aides in the sand followed by “The last thing I’d want…”
18. Irish cousins who burrow like Meercats in the attic.
19. SUSH BEACH.
Stu Cabana Boys who man the grill, push the cart, and fail at delivering on their one true purpose.
Parting is such sweet sorrow, but as God as my Witness, we’re taking this circus to Montauk.