Hearsay


Published on October 10, 2002, 12:00am | Comments

Lizard Lounge slithers into an alternate universe…
Feint caters to the indie rock queer boy…
Who was that spotted at The Crew Club?…

Faced with an Empire Video late fee of $2,106.45 for The English Patient and Young Guns 3: Cocked and Loaded, both checked out June 5, 1992, Hearsay slunk like a misbehaved mutt back to Miss Lena Lett, dispenser of wisdom in this mag's advice column Truly Yours, to try to set up an installment plan. In response, Miss Lena put the proverbial smack down and told Hearsay to come up with the dough. OR ELSE. Left with only one reasonable option, Hearsay set out for every sperm/egg donation clinic in town. After being gently but firmly rejected by each one (who knew they don't accept hard-boiled eggs?), Hearsay signed up as a test subject for The WeHo Project, a government plan to kill terrorists with high-decibel Mandy Moore deep house remixes via microchip brain implant. After 39 straight hours of “Turn the Clock Around,” Hearsay considered hari kiri but decided instead to check out Feint, an indie rawwwk party for queers that debuted last Sunday at Staccato (right next door to the Duplex Diner). With its Black Catter boys and girls all dressed in the thriftiest, ironickest indiewear, and its perfect blend of Siouxsie, Thom, Belle, Sebastian, and Luscious, Feint was a veritable antiMandy antidote. Hearsay, made suddenly nostalgic for its angsty adolescent years spent listening to New Order (oh alright, Joy Division. Happy?) tried to slamdance with a few patrons but ended up alienated and deemed not sufficiently jaded. Hearsay decided it was time for more reptilian environs and so dashed on over to the ever-popular Lizard Lounge at The Saint only to find that Lizard Lounge was nowhere to be found. Could it be? Had Mark “Onward and Upward” Lee sallied forth to greener pastures in another city? A bigger, better city with 24-hour public transit and a more efficient DMV? Hearsay felt so… betrayed. Hearsay was wandering the cold city streets in a daze, feeling cruelly deceived, when suddenly a warm light beckoned, glowing beneath a word that Hearsay couldn't pronounce. MCCXXIII? Hearsay had never seen such a word. Perhaps Hearsay had stepped through a tear in the ether and landed in a far away universe. Hearsay crept closer and saw a doorman with -- could it be? Yes! -- a lizard affixed to his shoulder! And suddenly, with an epiphany that struck like a gong, Hearsay realized what had happened and felt foolish for taking so long to figure it out. This was Lizard Lounge, silly rabbit, but in another dimension, a dimension where words are unpronounceable and the party is even bigger and more fabulous than before! Hearsay must have time-warped or worm-holed or something and ended up in a parallel, alternate reality. The rest of the city looked the same, but in this version of Washington, DC, Lizard Lounge had two levels and more couches and bigger bars and even more people than in the Lizard Lounge back on Earth. The whole experience was so Twilight Zone. Resident DJ “Welcome to Planet” Kostas spun heavenly tunes for an absolutely writhing, churning dance floor, while the couch crashers knocked back a complimentary cocktail (one drink free with entry in this world!). Hearsay was so impressed and empowered by this alternate dimension that the very next day, Hearsay marched right into Empire Video and told Miss Lena in no uncertain terms that that late fee was not going to be paid. The always-multidimensional Lena then made Hearsay see -- in no uncertain terms -- why it would be very wise to pay that late fee. No need to get into details, but her methods involved a Mandy Moore CD, a pair of Coby headphones and a large tub of glue. Parallel universe or not, Hearsay learned, that's one queen that you just don't fuck with…

What two “actors” in a hit “play” have been spotted working out at the Crew Club, every day, like clockwork, at 2 p.m.? And following one of their workouts, the “thespians” stopped by Hamburger Mary's where, reports have it, they found the hamburgers big, meaty and juicy, just like their work in the “film” world. Maybe Glenn “Would You Like Salsa on That?” Mlaker will have them autograph “head” shots for display in HM's Men's Bathroom walls…


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