The Only Straight in the Village

Although I love living in Naperville and Chicago is a great city; to me, there is no where like New York. So while staying here in New Jersey, I knew I had to visit. It's so close. A mere 45 minute car journey and 1hr 20 mins train ride away. Ok, so maybe it's not that near, but it's a lot closer than from London.
I have been lucky enough to visit three times before, and it is my favourite city on the entire planet. But I have never had a visit quite like the one I experienced yesterday.
This time my stay centered on Greenwich Village - the trendy gay area of Manhatten. No, I haven't converted following my visit to the gay bar yesterday. It was just somewhere to explore while my gbf Jack spend three hours getting his hair cut and coloured, his nails manicured and I don't even want to know what waxed.
The nearest thing London has to Greenwich Village is Camden, but strangely New York it is far less threatening. The shops are full of all kinds of trendy, if alas often trashy, knick knacks. There was also a colourful market, but the best thing was the wonderful festive atmosphere. Waiting for the traffic signals to chance, athletic men in shorts roller skate across the road. Dogs are carried in holdalls into doggy gift shops by over indulgent owners, who would rather spend $100 on booties than risk getting their paws dirty.
The weather was hot and sunny, and I was having a lovely time until the clouds gathered for an hour long storm. Just in time I was able to nip back to the salon before the heavens opened.
Now I am not adversed to the odd massage and nail treatment myself, but whenever I have been, I have never found myself sitting next to men getting their nails painted too. The place, interestingly called Randee Elaine's (English humour necessary here), seemed to be run by former members of the Russian women's Olympic team. Burly unattractive women lined up to haul quaking little men off to individual rooms for massages or waxing. Amazingly, they seemed to come out of the closet smiling, and even more astonishingly, still able to walk.
The place seemed very busy, but there was still time for the ladies to take a break. In one cubicle two of them sat leaning over one of the treatment tables, sharing a magazine flicking sunflower seed shells all over the place.
Once Jack was finally ready (they think women take a long time over these things) we sheltered from the rain in a quaint little bar where we drank the most amazing cocktails blackcurrant vodka and creme de cacao. (Can you see a pattern from the previous entry?)
After a day of gay New York, I was anxious to show Jack my favourite haunt, something a little more touristy, I'm afraid. The view from the top of the Empire State Building at night has to be the most amazing thing ever (save for the Grand Canyon, perhaps). The clouds had cleared and it was just breathtaking. We were even entertained by a fabulous firework display going on on either side of the river. As we were leaving, a saxophonist started playing. It has to be one of the most romantic spots on earth.

Unfortunately, there are times when only a straight man will do....