Am I Fabulous or Deluded? Is there a difference. What I thought? (How Fabulous am I?) Reality (How deluded am I?)

APRIL 16, 2008
Am I Fabulous or Deluded? Is there a difference.
What I thought? (How Fabulous am I?) Reality (How deluded am I?)

I thought I was fabulous, It was the summer of 1996 I had been in New York for over a year. I was living in a studio/loft apartment in Manhattan on 25th street, I was making $200 to $350 dollars a day, Believe it or not the The Theme Restaurant life was the shit between 1995-1999. Besides my job Motown Cafe, there was Fashion Cafe, Hard Rock Cafe, Jekyll and Hyde, Mars 2112, Harley Davidson Cafe, Slaughter House, Planet Hollywood, and ESPN Zone. We all thought because we worked for and waited on Stars that we were an extension of them.



We spent our days getting waxed, plucked, Hair styled, shopping, lunching and brunching. We used have what my friend Damien called "Bump" shopping. This is where you shop in a store, do a "bump" of cocaine, Shop, bump, have a cocktail, do a bump, shop, bump, bump bump. Now you need a vivid description of Damien to understand him, I will do my best.

Damien was about 5'4 , eyebrows plucked to perfection. Jet Black hair, full and voluminous. The true definition of "Fierce Queen". Although Damien was of Mexican hertiage, he claimed to be Puerto Rican. He was small and slightly built but Damien carried so much strength in his words and appearance that people usually bowed to his whims and let him dictate their every move. I'm sad to say I was also a follower of the church of Damien. Unlike my dear friend Juan, Damien really did know all the right people in all the right places. He always knew the hottest night at the hottest club, We never paid, always had drugs and drink tickets. During the time I became friends with Damien he convinced me that Juan was just a Big dumb lunk and slowly I distanced myself from Juan and became ensconced among Damien's friends Judy, Vicica, Alexa, Freeman, Tracy, Wanettea, Jazz, British, Geoffrey, Cindy, Diamond, Brian, Marcus, Cindy, Chris, and lots of day players . This was a fun , sassy, gorgeous and fabulous group and I wanted in badly. Juan was not happy to be in a big group Juan never had fun in large circles. He always felt that he didn't fit in, In spite of his looks and what I found charming ways. Others thought he was simple and dumb, which he was not! Juan couldn't fit in because he didn't care who Linda Evangelista was? Or it wasn't major news that Naomi Campbell fell off the catwalk. These were major moments in the life of the Fashionista group. Juan was too sensitive to survive in this camp, and slowly as I became more fabulous and flaky, Juan simply walked away from our friendship, I became someone who he didn't want to be around. I was so oblivious at the time that it was years before I even noticed he was gone. This is not something I am proud of but it is fact and the one the thing you cannot change is the truth, no matter how repulsive. My schedule was full trying to keep up with my new friends and believe me our schedule was busy. Damien usually had all the groups activities planned

Here is the "Damien weekly list" Monday night- "Sugar Babies" Eclectic party at Irving Plaza, Dancing, drinking, Ecstasy pills. Tuesday- Luxia Bar - Cocktails, Friends, and cocaine. Wednesday- Eyebrows plucked, lunch, cocaine, go to work, After work we had drinks and cocaine at Revloution bar in Times Square. Thursday- The Sound factory Bar- Cocktails, Dancing, and of course cocaine. Friday - We traveled out to the boroughs of Queens to Krash Nightclub in Astoria.(See Sound Factory Bar for the goings on) Saturdays was of course the "Tunnel" - drinking, dancing, cocaine, Ecstasy, Special K, This was the night where you did 2 or more designer drugs and finished the night at 3:00 in the afternoon. Now by this time you had long left The Tunnel and spent most of Sunday morning at a shady and seedy after hours called Sizzle. Now Sizzle after hours was something to behold. They opened at 6:00 in the morning, it had a moving secret location. The cops would bust them and they would find a new space by the next week. Sizzle had Iron Doors would slot holes, the Doorman would peep out the hole and if you were a part of the scene he knew it and let you in , otherwise sorry "Private Party".





Inside the dark and seedy place, there was gambling and blackjack tables, (High rollers only), dancing and drinks. The crowd was a mix of club kids, mafia men, strippers, go-go- boys, drag queens, trainnies, jersey boys, rich kids, and somehow me. Sundays was usually either rest and recuperate or head out to "Cafe Con Leche" party on 43rd street. I get tired just remembering the days of yore. Now although I regret some of the habits I developed by hanging out with Damien, There was a reason I met him, through Damien I met his best friend and room mate Freeman. We did not hit it off right away in fact he hated me on sight. Damien and I had just started hanging out and we were set to go to the club when Damien decided I was not dressed good enough. We took a cab to his cute little Railroad apt he shared with Freeman in Times Square. He quickly introduced me to Freeman as his sad little southern girlfriend who needed a makeover. "Look at his eyebrows" he squealed to Freeman, "Honey you are a mess"" Give him something to wear and I'm getting my tweezers girl!" Instead he went and made us cocktails, and rolled a blount. Needless to say Freeman was not amused bby the sad little country queen that stood in his apt asking to borrow clothes. NO! he said flatly and continued to flick the remote back and forth between MTV and BET. For the next 2 hours we watched videos, smoked weed and snorted ccocaine. All the while Freeman did not acknowledge, or even look at me. I thought he really hates me, he can see that I'm in the wrong crowd and I don't belong in their inner sanctum. We went to Sound Factory and Free continued to avoid me only stopping to speak to me if I had the package of Coke and I had to pass it to him. Back in those days we shared packages, intsead of having our own.

At the end of the night as I saying goodbye Free gave me a half ass hug. Then he looked me squarely in the eyes and said to me "Don't listen to her you look fine" Be yourself." Although I didn't know it at the time, Here was a person that was saying something I should listen to out of kindness, and here also was once of the sweetest and kindest people I would ever met. As Damien's face melted away and his demons showed, Freeman's emerged as my true friend and one who I will always cherish and love as family. Underneath the tough shell was a beautiful, sesitive and kind soul. Through the years Free has given me many words of hope and wisdom, We both walked through the hell of nightlife New York and survived. Many of our friends are in jail, rehab or should be in rehab, or have gone back to our heavenly father; We both made it through, yeah we got a little burnt, a lot worn but we are still here. By the grace of God we are still here.

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