I like to be in America, ok by me in America, everything free in America
I like to be in America
Independence Day in P’Town. As I went downstairs for breakfast I could hear the strains of the patriotic songs drifting in from the dining room. Alicia had put together a playlist of American classics to mark the special day. People wished me a Happy 4th as I entered the dining room. I wished them a Happy Independence Day. They picked up on my British accent. I had figured it would get a bit of extra attention today. They apologised for winning a war 235 years ago. I apologised for living in a country that had free healthcare. We called it a draw. I got chatting to a couple of couples over breakfast. They asked if I celebrated Independence Day back home in the UK. I said that we didn’t really celebrate it but I would be spending the day celebrating Gin Dependence Day instead.
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| Miss Richfield 1981 |
After breakfast T went off to “meet a friend”. I had a wander round town, getting some pictures of the houses all decked out for the celebrations before heading to the main street and finding a shaded spot to watch the parade. I had been told not to expect too much from the parade, but that it was good fun to watch and worth taking my camera. I bumped into Ken and Larry, a lovely couple from San Francisco who I had met at Tea previously. We chatted for a while before the parade arrived. They headed off and T joined me. The parade duly arrived, an interesting mix of fire engines of various ages, all with the sirens blazing and bells ringing, cars decked out in red, white & blue with people hanging out of the windows and a couple of floats filled with school children. The highlight had to be the famous drag queen, Miss Richfield 1981, on a mobility scooter speeding down the main street, a loud hailer in hand playing a fire engine siren through it.
The parade ended and T and I walked up to the Lobster Pot to get a couple of lobster rolls to go. T assured me that it was the best place to get a lobster roll from. I’d not had one before so have nothing to compare it against but it was bloody good. Tea had special extended hours for Independence Day so that the assembled gays could watch the fireworks from the boat deck. Neither T nor I managed to stick to the two Planter’s Punch limit and so we were both a little tipsy by the end of Tea.
I spent quite a while chatting to Bruno, a friend from back home in London who was in P’Town with his other half. This was my second random meeting with someone I know from back home. I was averaging one a month so far after June's incident with the ex in New York. It made a change for me to be able to introduce someone I knew to T rather than him introducing me to the string of men who seemed to know him. I had also learned that, in order to avoid awkward conversations, it was best not to ask how they knew T. The evening was rounded off with a firework display and by the end of the night I had chatted so many different people I had lost count. I had also forgotten most of the names of the people I had been introduced too as well but I had managed to hand out a whole stack of my little 80 Gays Around the World cards.
The following morning and it started to feel a little like Groundhog Day. Breakfast. Sunbathing at the Boatslip. A couple of drinks and lunch. Home to shower. Tea Dance at the Boatslip. We had dinner at a great café called Frappo66, sitting outside so we could watch the gays go by. I had the most amazing chicken parmigiana, sweet potato mash, green beans and broccoli. The portion was so big that there was enough left over for another meal (I had it cold the following day and it was equally as delicious). At Frappo we got chatting to three guys at the next table. They asked where we were from. We said New York and London. They said they were from Cologne. T said to them “Je peux parler français”. I stifled a laugh as they responded “That’s great, Cologne is in Germany”.
The following day we broke with tradition, heading to the beach instead of the Boatslip for our sunbathing. We met up with a couple of guys we had got chatting to early in the week and all made the trip to the beach together. The walk took us through a rather swampy bit of muddy sand so it was a relief to finally get to the beach. We settled ourselves down and spent the day tanning, chatting, listening to music and bemoaning the lack of a bar. We headed back in time to shower and change for Tea. We located our favourite barman, Johnny from Atlanta, and ordered our Planter’s Punches. Johnny mentioned to T that he had been chatting to another of the barmen about how many phone numbers they had collected and they realised that T had given both of them his number. T had been rumbled & Johnny didn’t seem too impressed. I didn’t tell them about all the other people who had been given T’s number but that cell number was probably in a majority of the phones in P’Town.
T introduced me to some more of his friends & then he wandered off to chat to some other people. I had a lovely chat with a sweet, funny (and sexy) guy called Kellen, who told me he was from New York. I said that I would be heading back through New York in a week or so and that we should meet up. I caught up with Bruno again, having also bumped into him earlier that day down at the beach. He said that they were off to Boston for a few days. I told him that it was my last night in P’Town too and that I was also over to Boston. As we went to leave Tea Kellen spotted me and came running over to say goodbye, bumping into someone stood near me and throwing his drink down my legs in the process.
T and I made our way to The Thenassi Gallery where (yet another) friend of T’s was having an exhibition of some of his paintings. We were greeted by a lovely woman called Sylvia, who with a thick Hispanic accent and flamboyant style immediately made me think she could be the twin sister of Margarita Pracatan. She poured me a very large drink, told me to help myself to some complimentary cheese and crackers and go look at the art. I looked at the art, then returned to chat more to Sylvia. We chatted about traveling for a long time. She had gotten around. At the end of our conversation Sylvia brought out a small velvet bag. She told me that she had been down to the beach to collect some pebbles and that each had a special message on it. I reached into the bag pulling out a small pebble with the word health painted on it. I kept it, praying that it was a sign that my liver would survive the year of traveling and drinking. Kellen turned up at the gallery as he too had friends who knew the artist. I asked if he would mind not throwing another drink on me & he laughed. He said he would consider it. I came away without getting soaked for a second time.
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| Farewell to P'Town |
The final morning in P’Town, I had some breakfast and packed, ready to check out of the Fairbanks Inn and move on to my next stop, Boston. I said goodbye to our lovely Innkeepers, Alicia and Kathleen, and thanked them for such a fun time. They wished me well for the rest of my travels. I searched for my ferry ticket. It was the first paper ticket that I had had all trip. I remember putting it somewhere safe but I couldn’t for the life of me find the safe place that I had put it. I searched everywhere but resigned myself to the fact that it was super-safe. I headed down to the ferry ticket office expecting to have to fork out for another ticket. I explained to the man behind the counter that I had mislaid the return portion of my ferry ticket. He asked my name, found my booking on the system and printed me another one. I didn’t have to pay anything – I had considered resorting to crying to get a replacement but I didn’t need to! Result. We waved goodbye to P’Town as our 2pm ferry departed. I said to T that I would be glad to have a break from all the crazy drinking. About ten minutes later we were sat on the deck of the boat having a beer as we sailed toward Boston.
“I like to be in America, ok by me in America, everything free in America”
Lyrics from America from the musical West Side Story
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