That season is approaching, when the gays and gay-friendly swarm to Fire Island to be away from it all.
But when they get there, they find every single person from New York, so they haven’t gotten away from anything!
I happen to love the place anyway, with some noted exceptions.
5. Those awful creatures who look perfectly cute, but are horribly infectious if you get too intimate with them.
I mean the deers, silly.
4. The planks.
There are no cars and no streets, just wooden planks you clank upon to go back and forth from the beach to the ice cream place and back. It’s kind of refreshing — to a point.
3. The daylight.
You see people in bright light that you’ve never seen before except in a woozy nightclub. And it’s even scarier than the deers! They look like melted Puppetoons!
2. The restaurants are overpriced and you can’t always get a table anyway.
I’ve been forced to swallow meatball parmigiana heroes in the resort’s one half-empty dive many a time. And I ended up feeling like even more of an outcast than before.
1. Everyone’s on tit-spinning amounts of drugs, any drugs, all drugs.
Why commune with nature when you’re fucking with your own?