Idiosyncracies and such

Well, well, well…

After 3 weeks of being in limbo, and not being able to find a gay club. Chris came home one day with glorious news of his finding. We finally found Tabasco, the obscure club that its street address we could not find on the map. Part of the reason being that its in a dark alleyway, and that the entrance to the club itself is a shed. Yes…a shed. You can only imagine how scary and uber sketchy it was for us while trying to muster up the courage to walk in to the shed that night. All we could see was a blue light from the tiny window with eyes peering out to see if we were gonna come in or not. Well due to the fact that gay clubbing in the wonderful urban environment permits us to drink before we go, without having to drive, like say in El Paso, Chris and I were pretty happy on our way in. Some alchie in the system is a must if fun is to be had at uber sketchy gay establishments. Yay for the lady down the street that sells white wine bottle for 2.50 Euro. I love her, and I like cheap wine that does the trick (though when I go out to dinner now, I’m starting to get picky about my wine). One bottle for Chris and I though is not enough, but cover at Tabasco was 10 Euro which included a drink, which was nice.

So we’re finally courageous enough to enter, and the greeter gives us a card, and tells us the price. We walk in and to our amazement the shed was bumpin’ inside. Tabasco is full blown gay club. The bar tenders were super nice, and while the first bartender didn’t know what an amaretto sour (my girly drink of choice) was, he asked a second one, who hooked me up. There were plenty of guys, and the place was packed. The music, as in most other gay clubs was absolutely amazing. Its nice to hear Britney, Madonna, and Spice instead of 50 cent all the time. Speaking of spice, without me having to request to the DJ, Spice Up Your Life and Stop were played, to which I had to go crazy too, which after a bottle of wine, and an amaretto sour is not a hard thing to do. It was so much fun, and the greatest surprise of my life, at least that night, was that the guys were respectful and didn’t try to molest us (as has been the case in the US several times). It was the complete opposite of what I was expecting, but maybe we were just lucky that night…Italians have a reputation for a reason, and I’ve seen them chow down on our female counterparts. In a highly-tispy state I decided I liked one of the guys that worked there, and without the need of much encouragement from Chris, I was chatting away with the Italian, and making small talk. He was such a cute little Italian guy, who looked just our age…i think he had braces, which to a drunken Edgar must have been cute. My Italian was good enough to get his name ‘Valencio’ (assuming I remember correctly), and he found out that I was American (something I take advantage of to get the most out of being a foreigner), and when he asked me where in USA I was from, and I replied Texas he said in his italian accent “oh, there is a tornado on its way there”, which i then deciphered to mean a hurricane, after he gesticulated what he meant. That was some nice small talk, but he was working so he couldn’t stay for too long, so I just did a little flirtatious thing every time he walked by. Chris and I had to leave soon, (as it was 3 am, and I had to be at the train station for Ferrrara in 5 hours). I said many a Ciao to Valencio, and in an uber sketchy,very unlike Edgar way, when I shook his hand at the end, there was a note in there. Which is all I will say about that.

So all in all, gay clubbing in Florence was absolutely amazing, and rivaled most gay outings in both NYC and El Paso. Hooray to that! I think its safe to say Chris and I will be back this weekend.

Peace, Spice, and gay clubbing adventures,
-Edgar

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 28th, 2005 at 11:35 am and is filed under Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.