Business Woman’s Special
Sat, Jan 10 at The Round
Deep in the middle of winter, at a club deep in the heart of Kensington Market, exists a monthly party so powerful it attracts those yearning for release no matter the weather. We approach just after 1am and are greeted with the sight of a lineup of hopeful partiers 40 feet long. It seems that those who went out New Year’s Eve, a mere 10 days earlier, need more. And more we get. Cassandra Moore to be precise. Looking like a younger, slimmer, taller Björk with mini hair-bun curls and white fluffy sweater, she performs for the first time at The Round for Business Woman’s Special.
It’s a packed house, and though co-host April Wozny is not here tonight, her party partner, Michael Yerxa, is keeping house. And this house is getting messy. As DJs Diego Armand, Sammy Royale and Nino Brown work their musical magic, the dancefloor ebbs and flows like a mass of freaky flesh.
We need drinks. Ordering one, though, with so many other thirsty, needy alcohol worshippers, proves difficult. We all stand in prayer at the bar, hands clasped in front of us with crumpled cash as offering to the bartender gods. Holy water. We need holy water. The ordeal is extended as the guy in front of us buys rounds of drinks . . . with his debit card. Really?!
I would like to suggest that those people who buy drinks with debit cards start tabs using credit cards instead. Make this your late new year’s resolution. Paying with a debit card slows everything down, especially at last call; that last 15 minutes is big-money time for a bartender, who needs to serve as many people as possible in a short period of time.
It’s especially annoying tonight as I can’t leave my spot in line to grind with the “I’ve clearly had way too many drinks already” hottie on the dancefloor as a track is dropped that makes him pop out his butt, indicating that he’s anyone’s for the taking. Now I’m even thirstier.
Fri, Jan 16 at the Black Eagle
Deep in the middle of winter, in the heart of Toronto’s gay village, exists a monthly party so powerful it attracts men to a leather bar who aren’t really hardcore leather men. The leather purists might say this is sacrilegious. The last time I covered an event at the Black Eagle was more than five years ago. It was a daytime barbecue fundraiser, so it wasn’t your typical Eagle event. There are some parties and spaces that I have a hard time covering. Events at the Eagle are one because cameras are (or at least were) usually very much frowned upon.
The men here typically come for one thing and one thing only. Sex. And being photographed at a “sex club” for a magazine isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Teabagging in the upstairs dark room, however, is very much appreciated. Like the times, though, the club is a-changing. Might I suggest you do also? Make this your late new year’s resolution.
Try something different and new. What was once a dark room on the main floor is now a dancefloor painted white. To the right sits a DJ area complete with smoke machine, and behind it are two DJs, one, Phil V, casual in a loose, sleeveless tee, and the other, John Caffery, sexy in a wrestling singlet.
The dancefloor echoes their manly fashion mix. Some wear typical jeans and T-shirts, while some, like host David Kraft, boldly let out their inner fetish, sporting singlets and high-end studded leather harnesses.
Meanwhile, go-go men in red snakeskin briefs act as instigators, thrusting their pythons into the faces of those who dance too close. These aren’t your typical Eagle men. They seem more like hipsters who have a wild nasty side. They’re the chocolate that somehow fell in the peanut butter. Now I’m hungry.