Rather, I received a number of morning-after texts that said something like, “I should’ve stayed home last night.” When the hot, horny summer felt like it was ending, and the world occasionally felt that way too, everyone kept apace - “Want another shot?” (Pfizer, please.)īy the time Sunday rolled around, without an invitation to someone’s beach house, tired and wanting to go somewhere new, I decided to head to the Q, a multilevel gay club in Hell’s Kitchen opened earlier this summer by Frankie Sharpe with the backing (at least on Instagram) of a handful of gay glitterati, including Billy Porter, Zachary Quinto, Charlie Carver, and Jake Shears. And yet, after partying all holiday weekend, I didn’t meet many people who had decided to take a night off. We keep going out anyway, of course, because God forbid we feel like we’re missing out on something, but nothing hits like it did back in June, when the whole summer was ahead of us and our energy reserves were still at 100 percent after our winter hibernation.
Well, along came Labor Day, and suddenly - and I don’t know about you - partygoing had started to feel … laborious.
