Words: Tina Jane

NEW YORK CITY BABY
Every time I visit this place I question what the hell went wrong? Why wasn’t I born here and why haven’t I moved here already? This is my 10th trip and each time I start plotting and scheming to relocate to this American Mecca. I feel the NY version of me is cooler, more energised and cultured, and gets a more out of life than the London or Hong Kong me does. The NY version is also crazier, although maybe that’s not such a plus. A crazy girl in a crazy town can equal a little too much crazy. Luckily, it seems to go down well with the locals. I guess they just think I’m an insane Brit with a cool accent. They still love all that shit. I wasn’t going to write about NY as I wrote about it for DS before but how can I not? My head is buzzing with the last 5 days escapades and my deadline is tomorrow.

MY HOMEGIRL
I usually stay in a hotel when I’m here, but last year I was introduced to the fabulous Ava who was visiting HK. She loves my town as much as I love hers and we quickly decided it made perfect sense for her to stay with me when she needed a break from Gotham’s bitterly cold winter, and I’d take time out of our clammy summer to stay with her in the East Village. Ava is a quintessential multifaceted New York chick, working as a model, artist and singer in her own band. She’s also a soprano and sings in a Catholic-Italian Church, doing weddings, funerals and services. When she invited me this Sunday, even though I was hungover to fuck, I decided to tag along. What a creepy gig. Like the twilight zone, the massive musty church was only quarter full and the time-warped priest droned on about modesty in dress and purity of heart. It’s not just the abuse scandals that are causing the decline- it’s the mind-numbing monotony. After taking communion for a laugh (the body of Christ tastes like stale cardboard) I took photos of the sinister statues of the saints. The weirdest was St Lucy, patron saint of the blind, holding a plate with a pair of eyeballs on it. Bleurgh. Sunday mornings like that make me feel grateful to be agnostic.

THE AMERICAN CREAM
Last time I was here I was getting divorced. The time before I was buying my wedding dress, so for my past few trips I haven’t been in the mood for sampling the fantastic selection of different flavored fellas here. This time, I’m loving being single again and enjoying making the most of my trip. I’m not saying I’m going to be a born again slut, I’m a middle aged woman now, but I’m up for having fun on my travels. You don’t have to work at it here- if American boys like you they come over and tell you. Of course, being a Fag Hag, I ended up finding my boy in a gay strip club. As soon as we walked in, I loved the place. It had a sleazy vibe like the old Homebase, the music was pumping and the strippers were hot and straight. The only competition came from a few trannies who gave us the evils. Then I saw him. He winked at me and my heart literally missed a beat. Super tall, mixed race and drop dead gorgeous with tighty whities that didn’t hide a thing. No wonder he was so in demand. I watched him hustle all night, saw the gay guys swooning as he gave them lap dances and took their money. We were at the bar getting drunk on free drinks from bar tenders, then right at the end of the night he came over and said “I like you”. Would love to tell you the rest, but I need to move on to..

CRAZY SHIT
It’s not just me acting crazy here. This town brings it out in people, or maybe just draws them here like moths to the flame. During a bank heist yesterday the robber gave the teller flowers. It’s everywhere. I saw tramps singing Opera in the park, Robert Downey Junior being mobbed, Russian girls in a full-on catfight, and an old Jewish guy walking around with a question mark on his head. I know this stuff happens everywhere but you definitely see more of it here. I heart NY. Anyway I’m off to get coffee. I’ll be writing to you next month from Bermuda and Memphis. Kisses from FH.

Tina Jane, natural born alpha female, fag hag extraordinaire, animal rights activist.