Several weeks ago I did a piece called “Is Everybody High Line?” which talked about the much anticipated opening of the High Line, that lovely patch of park/stroll fest (whatever) that stretches from the Meatpacking District to the West Chelsea Gallery District. The sound alone sounds like the hippest channel on Earth. It surely is lovely, especially at night. But it’s much ado about little. Nothing has received more press than the High Line except maybe the passing of Michael Jackson. The pomp and circumstance around this clinking clanking clattering collection of collagenous junk was way over the top. It’s an extension of The Emperor’s New Clothes. Yes, it is nice and all…but relax. I predicted the day they broke ground that the High Line would ultimately become a “Poontang Palace”.
You can cop a squat, a voyeuristic view and probably something else on the High Line.
You see, the High Line starts where all the sex trucks of the 1970’s were parked. That means there must be plenty of poontang ghosts flying around the park. In addition, I used to live at the mouth of the High Line at Gansevoort Street in the early ’90’s when it was only meat-packers and tranny hookers. Every night while walking my dog, I would be accosted by the trannies, until I finally gave them as much shade as they were giving me. That is when they left me alone. I learned that trick when I was bussed to an all-black high school. I could write the book “How To Survive Being In A Minority”. But the worst thing were the horny Johns driving around and around and around trying to hook up. One day I marched up to a slow-moving station wagon driven by an Orthodox Jew and scolded him in Yiddish, “You should be ashamed of yourself!” And never saw that vehicle again. The point here is, there were sex acts everywhere around that park and that energy will always be there. Heck, that’s why there are so many bars down there now. What do you think those people are looking for? Say it with me kids…POONTANG! Lo and behold, the top story in today’s New York Post is Eyeful Tower, about the sex acts happening at the Standard Hotel for all the onlookers on the park to see. Heck, The Standard was even promoting “tang” on their website. I would too if I have 300 rooms to fill each night…in this economy. Gotta give Andre Balazs props though. He loves press and this surely is a goodie.
I am sure Samantha from Sex and the City agrees with me to bring the trannies back.
