Swelter

The big event, Halloween night, and the streets full of great and small pleasures. A spectacular Grucci fireworks display put on by Hell, a nice little accompaniment to the outdoor action, a cross between Mardi Gras and some deranged paganish ritual. Jackie Oh! as Marlo Thomas, That Girl, or as he would have it, This Girl. A conga line of human poodles, dominatrixes, and sex slaves, people wearing T-shirts embellished with phrases like "Will Work For Dick...Eat, Fuck, Kill..." a gentleman on stilts encased in a monster/human fly rig, playfully chasing people down the street. A rough garage band adding a little edge to a one-nighter at the Gallery of the Unknown Artists, but the free-form carnival outside actually better than the clubs. Paragon patrons sleeping obliviously in the upstairs lounge, a fey boy pawing our outfit and gushing, "Oh, God, Harry Hamlin," a compliment that somewhat offset the diatribe of an older gentleman ("What the fuck are you supposed to be? You look like shit...") who leaped on us like a renegade fashion cop.

"Bohemia" at Warsaw, the club draped in strips of white fabric, piped-in eerie organ music easing the tension of the front door. The costume contest yet another depressing instance of what people will do for fifteen seconds of club stardom: Mr. and Mrs. Erotica in black vinyl, simulating cunnilingus; a priest doing a garter-clad nun; an American soldier with a Vietnamese woman on a leash. A kid with a mock four-foot penis winning the contest, of course. The very elegant Mayra Gonzalez of Findings, dressed as a Quince girl, noting that "this whole sex thing is so over." Halloween winding down to an epiphanic moment at 3:00 a.m. with a strange encounter, a man escorting his eight-months-pregnant wife, her naked belly decorated with war paint: "She's good stock, carrying a test-tube baby, but I guess we'll have to slow down soon. All these creatures of the imagination are incredible; I wish every night could be Halloween. Hey, remember to write the truth, and a little bit of what you feel.

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