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Someday I will adopt a little pug guy and we will live happily ever after. I’ll get married to some dreamboat and we’ll all live together in some impossibly chic brownstone. We’ll take the dog for four hour walks just so people can be totally jealous of our lives. “Look at that well-adjusted gay couple with a dog! A DOG!”
Days spent at Bleecker Park, Leroy Park, and Leroy Library have given me glimpses of women who I am positive are in, as the Gawker article once noted, “sexless marriages.” They’re worn-out, annoyed, and very much “over it.” They can really only focus on their manicure, their high-end shoes, or the fact that their youth is pretty much over.
It is impossible to compare these places to Beatrice. Maybe it was strange because the Beatrice didn’t just die one night, it carried on for so long – what we were trying to save was something irreversible. It was special because it was a physical place that summed up a specific time. The bougie/slummy charm, the civilized debauchery – there was appeal that was just made sense in the moment in the city.