Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time!





"I want to be."

"I want to be."

"I want to be."

"A good time, good time, good time girl..."

We had arrived at our favorite place when the song began to play. Of course none of us were girls. The good-time girls was a song from this musical called Over here! Lacey-Tyler loved. He was twirling around in circles now dancing to it as we walked into Bohemia.

Let me tell you about Bohemia's was better then Heaven. It belonged to Mr. Volpa. Mr. Volpa was the 50ish guy with the square frames that wasn't gay but just loved being around the gay scene because it kept him feeling stylish. So why not open up a gay diner above New Alphabet City.

New Alphabet City, of course wasn't in New York. It was in located in Downtown Pittsburgh. The area wasn't the richest. It was struggling...shit we were struggling every single day. Art and culture was blooming everywhere around us and of course art and culture attracted a large gay population.

"Mr. Volpa, play Good-Time Girls over!" Lacey-Tyler cried, "I want to be, I want to be, I want to be a Good-Time, Good-Time, Good-Time girl!"

He was so loud. Hell we all were loud though, so I guess it didn't matter. Lacey was having his own little moment too, dancing with his hands flinging around.

"No more musicals!" Volpatt cried back from the kitchen.

Not that many people came into Bohemia around this time to eat. I mean, it was like 5 am in the morning. We always came in after a night full of making ourselves look like fucking idiots, sluts and alcoholics at one of the many gay clubs in the area.

It was the four of us.

It had always been the four of us, since we all dropped out of college, we all decided to take a tour of country with the last bit of money we had saved up. We moved from New York to Pittsburgh...just 6 hours a way. One hell of a tour, huh?

Truth is we ran out of money.

"Volpatt, shots! Volpatt!"

That last comment was by Breezy. Breezy was favorite alcoholic. Every good-time group needed an alcoholic right? He waved his hands in the air, drool dripping from his mouth as he demanded more alcohol. He couldn't even keep his hands in the air for much longer. Of course his name wasn't Breezy. His name was Willis Breeze. I'd known Breezy since I was three...ha.

"Whiskey, you had enough, stop it before I punch you in your face," Mickey started with him.

Mickey was the violent one. I guess he was the closest any of us came to being responsible. That was saying a handful because Mickey was somewhat of a hypocrite since he himself was drunk. He was always a hypocrite and he was always fighting. He knew he didn't make sense half of the time.

"Well I haven't had enough," I say as I stand up on the table.

"Gogo if I had a quarter for every time you stood up on a table!"

Yeah...I was Gogo.

My name wasn't always Gogo. It was George Travis. Of course, who would want to go around with a name like George Travis? Not me. Hell. I don't know why I started being called Gogo. Maybe because on a good day, I was a gogo dancer in the club or maybe because I loved Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill. Either way I was Gogo of the Good-Time Girls. We were the Good-Time girls because well we couldn't be the Boogie-Down Boys since they were our competitors. Our squad was the most fun having, entertaining, loose in the goose group around these parts and we were going to HOLD that title no matter what.

I was of course the drama queen. All eyes had to be on me. I had to entertain people. They had to love me! I was an actor. Or at least I was inspiring to be.

"Gogo, get down from that table!" Volpa screamed out as he came out of from the back with menus in his hand.

Before I jumped off the table, Mickey hit my legs almost causing me to collapse on it. He and Lacey-Tyler broke out into laughter all of a sudden as I struggled to get up. I couldn' was hard as hell.

I had been drinking too...not as bad as Breezy of course. I don't think anyone drunk as bad as Breezy. Jesus. He had his head laying against the wall and looked like he was 2 seconds away from a seizure...and this was a good day for him!

"Volpa why do you always bring us a menu?" Lacey-Tyler asked, taking a deep breath, "We always get the same things."

"Meatloaf for Gogo and Mickey? Chicken Breast For Lacey? Water and Aspirin for Breezy?"

"Yeah," Mickey stated.

Volpa nodded and turned around, his eyes cast on Breezy. He always kept a close eye on Breezy. Breezy had a thing for throwing up in Volpa's place. There was already a bucket positioned below Breezy in his usual seat, against the wall with the least lighting so he didn't get real active and crazy on us.

"Guys, bad news," Lacey-Tyler started.

"Oh lord, bad news?" I started and leaned over on the table, swinging my head as I did and grimacing my face, "Don't nobody bring me NO BAD NEWS! When you're talking to me...don't be crying the blues..."

"Gogo, can you leave Broadway alone for 2 seconds," Lacey-Tyler started, "Two seconds?"

"Ok, ok go ahead. Mr. Potato head."

"I do not have a potato head, you drag queen."
The nerve of him! "Drag? Hunny, I'd shit on a drag. I don't lip sync."

"OH GOD! HURRY THE HELL UP WITH THIS NEWS!" Mickey flared up, "Why do I hang out with you Queens!"

Geez. I tried my hardest not to crack up. When Breezy was sober he was the most masculine of was almost impossible to think he was straight, but that was when he was sober and we barely saw those days. Mickey of course was the next unclockable. People hardly knew about him even though he had his bitch now.

"It's almost...Jesus...guys it's almost Valentine's day."

"Oh no!" I cried out.

Even Breezy's eyes opened as he looked at us, "Valen...Valentine's Day. Oh fuck..."

"Every year you guys trip over Valentine's day," Mickey stated, "Every year, you end up here at the Bohemia, alone, to exchange porns and go home to jerk off for an hour or two. All of you...except me."

I rolled my eyes, "Not this year...buddy, Orion is over you."

"Orion is not over me!" Mickey cried out, "I swear you really must not like them teeth in your mouth, huh, Gogo?"

I shut up. Mickey would probably really attempt to knock the teeth out of my mouth. Orion was his ex. Mickey and Lacey-Tyler were always the players. They competed for how many guys they would get. Things changed though. Mickey had fallen in love with Orion and left Lacey-Tyler being the only one still keeping a head count.

It's be Mickey's first time in three years without having Orion as a Valentine. Who knew why they broke up but they did and Orion was sexy as enough to get a guy in a matter of seconds. Then again Mickey wasn't that ugly either, but he was still so stuck on Orion.

"I...I want a Valentine," Breezy stuttered, "Where we going to get one?"

I shrugged, "I don't need one. All I need is you guys."

"Ok Gogo, that's sweet but bullshit," Lacey-Tyler stated, "Pleasure Club is having a Valentine's day bash. All the Boogie-Down Boys are going to have dates. I need a date too. This is lame!"

"Bitch, calm down," I stated, "We'll find dates then, no big thing. We not ugly...we dress better then any gang in the city."

Well not better, but we dressed nice. Imagine the movie School imagine that but on crack. We all had loud colors, louder then the local gang the Harajuku girls who were known for that stuff. However unlike the Harajuku girls, the Good-Time Girls weren't wearing damn Halloween costumes to walk around. We were 80's 90210 with a little bit of street funk. That was how I would describe our style.

"That's easy for you to say," Lacey-Tyler started, "You, Mickey and Breezy are all masculine. Guys flock to you. I'm a ladybug!"

"Some guys like feminine guys," I told him, "Like Mickey. Mickey there are more guys like you, right, that like feminine guys?"

"You still mad about when I turned you down huh?" Mickey spat back, "It was years ago. Forget about it."
Yeah, Mickey had met me turning me down. We were in a club in the Old Alphabet City. Mickey I had to confess was the hottest guy in the club. His swagger was something straight out of Lady Gaga video. He had this windbreaker on and some fly kicks from the store. He had been staring at me the whole night and I decided, hell, why not make a fool out of myself. So I went over there and started to grind my hips in the air and slowly go back onto him until I was grinding my hips on him. Then all of a sudden he tells me, "Hey, put more hip into it." I was so upset! No one ever told me how to dance before. We argued for hours after that, with him saying things like, "Yeah you got a nice ass but if you worked it more like a girl then I would really be all over that." I couldn't believe it. Ass hole. Then he years later he falls head over heals for Orion who is the biggest faggot ever...even worse then Lacey-Tyler.

"Fuck you," I stated.

I hated when he brought it up.

Volpa had come just in time with our food. He had a couple more customers but he always dealt with us first because we were regulars of course.

"You started," Mickey replied.

"I wish you two would just get married and get it over with," Lacey-Tyler stated.

This caused Breezy to laugh and me to roll my eyes.

"I'd rather catch rectal cancer."

"Getting fucked by a lot of boys would do that to you," I replied.

"What now come on...everyone knows I haven't had sex with anyone but Orion for years," Mickey argued back, "And everyone knows I was the one doing all the fucking."

"Congratulations. You want a cookie?"

"Whatever, you always get so upset when you find out that you are the only one still miserably alone."

Volpa put down our food on the table. I was looking right into Mickey's eyes. He usually took it back by now. He...he wasn't taking it back!

"I'm not hungry anymore."

Lacey-Tyler sighed loudly, "Great, got him started, Mickey. Apologize."

I had started. I got flushed in the face. I was read. I was the lightest one among the group...the only one mixed with anything. That just happened to be Cherokee Indian and black so I got real flushed with color.

Then I started to cry. I let out a loud whine, as loud as I could muster. How could he call me a drama queen?

"Mickey, apologize," Lacey replied.

I pounded hard on the table.

"OK! Damn it, I'm sorry ok? You know I love you Gogo," Mickey finally answered.

"I love you too."
Truth was I did love Mickey...but not as friends. I loved Mickey from the first day I met him. Mickey had my heart. He had my soul. He was...everything that meant anything. Mickey was the love of my life and he had no idea.






Why wouldn't the city stop spinning? Being drunk was worse then...god...I don't even know. After you hit that breaking point it is worse then getting hit with a ton of bricks in the nutsack repeatedly for an eternity. Gogo and I caught a cab from the Bohemia after we ate. It made sense because I lived right upstairs from him.

He lived alone but of course I had the snotty roommate. The snotty job. The snotty parents. God, already I couldn't wait for next weekend, where I could escape.

I threw up before we got in the cab.

The driver looked at me with this long face. He looked like...

"Roger Rabbit!" I stated pointing at him and laughing hard.

Gogo laughed at me. I'm glad I was with Gogo. He was the only one who could really keep up with me, you know? He wasn't like Mickey who would just get annoyed and end up cursing me out because I was too drunk. Gogo had the mentality that as long as I didn't drink alone everything would be ok.

It was all about having a good time.

It was our lives.

Just one good time after another.

And even though now I was fucked up and my lungs felt like they were going to collapse and my liver felt like it was going to give up on me any minute, I saw Gogo's face and I knew this was all worth it.

I'm not a philosopher, just a guy wanting to have a damn good time.

"What we going to do tomorrow night?" I asked him.

He was stripping me out of my jeans when we got to my apartment. Of course I couldn't strip myself out of my own jeans when I was drunk. That would be like asking a kid to change to change his own diapers.

"Same thing we do every night, Pinky, try and take over the world," Gogo replied and smiled, "Now if you want to throw up lean on your right, like we practiced."

Mickey and Lacey-Tyler were all my best friends, but Gogo and I had...something special. I didn't know what it was exactly but I knew it was something.

"Did we have a good time?"

"Yea Breezy, we always do."

"Gogo...I love you."

"I love you too, boy. Now try to sit up a little so I can get the jeans off."

"No...Gogo. I really..."
I stopped. I was going at it again. He always pretended like he didn't hear. I guess he was excusing my drunk talk for just that, drunk talk. Truth was I may have meant it. I may really care about Gogo...

I may really want to be more then friends with him.

As he took of my jeans he found that I had a hard dick underneath.

If only he would...

Ah... yes he did adjust it in my underwear. We were like brothers, Gogo and I. I guess he felt like he could do it. We were like brothers but him fixing my hard-on to make it comfortable for me only made it rage even harder. I wanted him. I wanted him so bad right now. If I had the energy I would jump up and hold him and kiss him and ...make love to him.

"Could you believe Mickey today?" he asked.

That was the problem. Mickey and Gogo always had this love-hate relationship between them. There was a crush. Everyone swore up and down the Mickey had a crush on Gogo, but after a while it seemed like it was Gogo who had the crush on Mickey. Either way, we saw there was always tension between the two. We hated it. It was so awkward and the Good-Time Girls hated being awkward.

So how would people get if they knew that I really had the crush on Gogo this entire time. I mean, no one would probably take me serious. I was the drunk but Gogo and I belonged together. I just knew it.

"Screw him."

"I know right," Gogo replied, "He tried to get to me and then he says he loves me as though that makes things better."
"You love him?"

"No. To hell with Mickey. He is probably going to go begging Orion to be his Valentine."

"You have any idea for a Valentine?"


"I'll be your Valentine!"

"Ha, that is cute, you are so drunk Breezy," he told me, "That would be so we do need to find Valentines."

This fucking sucked. He never took me serious. Maybe if went out of my way to touch him by making excuses of hitting him like Mickey OBVIOUSLY always did then he would take me serious like he did Mickey. Only thing was Mickey was a bully. I couldn't hit Gogo, he was too precious.

He turned to walk away.

"Stay," I tell Gogo, "Stay..."

"Don't threaten me with a good-time," he joked around.

It was our motto from some old school song that Lacey-Tyler had heard one time. It fit right in and we always used it. We used it so much that it hardly had a meaning anymore.

"Please, you make the room stop spinning," I tell him.

"Are you done puking?"

"Yeah, been done. I'm sobering up."

"You sure? I don't want to wake up in a puddle of puke."

"I'm done, I promise."

He barely laid with me at night. During the day, when he'd usually sneak into my apartment and laid with me, but never at night.

I felt like maybe he was scared. Maybe he was scared that we weren't exactly like brothers as everyone else assumed. Maybe tonight...maybe...we'd be lovers and things would change. Maybe they would get worse, maybe they would get better. The thing about our life is that we had no idea...

The possibility was beautiful.


I puked. I couldn't believe it. Gogo had just turned around and started heading towards the bed to cuddle with me. I PUKED! I wanted to smack myself on the head.

Anyone who has been real drunk knows the feeling of thinking that you are sobering up only to be hit with the reality that YOU ARE STILL DRUNK!

"You know I should get a lifetime achievement award for cleaning up your vomit," he joked, going to his closet and getting out some cleaning stuff.

He did it all with a smile on his face. He knew what this was all about. This was all about the goodtime.

I passed out.

I woke up the next day...Fuck...I had work.

Yeah, that was the fucked up thing about it. I always had to work the night after the club. I rushed trying to pull my clothes on and roll out of bed, but then I bumped into someone. It was Gogo.

He had changed the sheets and changed me yet again and he was laying right next to me. My arm had been over him...snuggling with him, keeping him warm.

Damn ... who else would do that for you but a best friend?

It would have been so easy to lay back down and cuddle up with him. I had ruined what could have been a special night with drunkenness. Now he was passed out and I had to go to work.

This fucking sucked balls.

I looked at his ass. Damn, I wanted it so bad. I would fuck him for hours if he gave me the chance. My dick was getting hard just thinking about how hard I would fuck him.

On the table.

On the floor.

In the shower.

I would make him feel like the Bohemian God that he was. If only I had the

chance and it wasn't just about sex. It would be awkward though. It would be awkward as hell. He was my best friend for godsakes, but I still just wanted the chance.

I got up stumbling. Fuck I was still drunk. That was so hilarious. It was funny waking up drunk. I grabbed my morning pack, changed into my Starbucks uniform and was out the door.

I couldn't stop thinking about Gogo as I opened my morning pack.

Took my aspirin.

I was so used to it now I had to take 3 instead of 2.

Trifling ass bus ride there, but it helped to get my mind off Gogo. I couldn't keep fantasizing about my best friend. It wasn't natural.

Just then I realized it was my parents calling me on my cellphone. Great. Old man and Old woman Breeze.

<HELLO!> I heard them scream.

<Urghh...Dad stop screaming, I'm hung over.>
<You still drinking, Willis! Willis, you can't keep doing this to yourself!>

<Oh hush, muffin.>

<You drunk?>

I laughed. Jesus I definitely was. I just told my dad to hush and called him muffins! Jesus Christ. I could hardly keep the phone in my hand. I was hung over.

"Sir, are you ok?" someone asked.

I hadn't even realized that my head was slumped on some stranger's shoulder. God this was so embarrassing.

"I am SO sorry," I started. God I needed my friends right now. I was a mess! "I did not mean to do that. I mean you're hot I woudn't mind doing that, but I don't...oh god, I'll just shut up."


Damn I had completely forgot my family was on the phone.

<Oh dad, I need a couple dollars. They are going to shut off my lights again.>

<Willis! No! You have to learn to be responsible. You need to stop hanging out with those good-for-nothing friends of yours and GROW UP!>

I hung up the phone.

Not purposely, but my hand was getting heavy from holding it to my ear. Damn. Now wasn't this some bullSHIT!

I started laughing...laughing on the bus...laughing in front of the entire only a good time girl could. It didn't matter that people were looking at me. That's the thing. Life was one big party and only me and my friends got that.

I got off the bus and walked to my job downtown Pittsburgh. It wasn't too far from the Bohemia. God, I couldn't wait until night came again and I ended up there after an entire night of getting trashed, flirting with strangers, making random fights with people and just being me.

That was what it was all about.

This job...this was bullshit. I hated working for the man, but selling bootleg dvds on the corner of 5th and wood with Lacey-Tyler just wasn't paying the bills like I had expected it to. So I had to give into THE MAN.

"You're fired. Are you even listening to me Mr. Breeze."

It was funny that was all I heard. I had been thinking about whether or not Mickey would front me a couple of dollars. He was the only one of us who actually could hold a job for more then a month or two.

"No wait don't fire me," I started.

"Why not? You're always late. You don't take your job serious at all. You flirt with almost every good looking customer that we have, blatantly. You asked one guy how he would like to feel a nine inch dick in his ass."

"Now! In all due respect, I was under the influence."

"Exactly, Willis, I like you. But your life, maybe you should think about where it's going."

No where fast. Hell, I was going backwards.

But I liked going backwards...even though it gave me kind of motion-sickness...fuck no it's not that, it's still the alcohol in my system.

"I...I --- I think I'm going to be sick!"
I tried to run to the bathroom and instead I ended up throwing up all over the starbucks coffee table in front of all the customers. They turned and stared at me disgusted. Damn...I definitely wasn't getting my job back.

I didn't know what to do.

"WILLIS!" the guy said.

"Cheer up. Life isn't that serious. It's kind of funny actually."
I ran out of the shop at that moment with him hot on my tail.

I couldn't believe I wasn't only fired but I was ran out of my job. This was hilarious. Jesus, I didn't have enough money to make it back home. I figured, I would have scrounged up bus money through tips, but not the way that I was.

Hey, I had plan B.

Here I was on the street corner with a can in my hand shaking it for change.

People got the idea, putting a quarter in the time. Just a little bit more and I'd have enough for the bus. Maybe if my clothes were a little bit more...dingy it would work better.

"I won't lie! I just want to a beer!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

I figured I would get a beer before I went home. Maybe two even. Why not if I can get enough money?

Suddenly I heard a honk and I saw a car pull up. It was some weird guy. He winked at me. Oh no...he had the wrong good-time girl. But then I realized this weird guy wasn't alone. In the passenger seat was Lacey-Tyler just as loose as ever.

"Bro! What are you doing!"

"Lost my job."
"Oh wow! Well great, you kept it for two weeks, you're moving up," Lacey-Tyler said and tapped the weird driver, "Hey Breezy meet Sugar. He's my new boyfriend. Sugar meet Breezy...that's one of my bestest friends...EVER!"

Lacey, I knew his game. He called all these guys Sugar, short for Sugar Daddy. That way he didn't have to memorize their names. If it wasn't for Lacey and his many Sugar Daddies got knows where we would have been. Truthfully we probably all would have been dead or breathing out of tubes the least (don't ask).

"What are you guys up to?" I ask, "I want to be, I want to be, I want to be..."

"A good time, good time girl," Lacey finished our chant and flashed me some dollars with a widest grin in the world, "How about we start the weekend early again?"

I knew I could count on Lacey to come through in my time of need. Drunk I come.

"Don't threaten me with a good time," I replied.

Some people may call us trifling and we were trifling. We were the group of people that were so damn annoying the club that you tried your best to ignore. We were always the loudest people everywhere we went. People spent most of their times talking about us, making fun of us and hating how we behaved. Our parents were so embarrassed of us that they'd already scratched us off their will.

We were America's Enema.

And we didn't give a fuck.

I want to be, I want to be, I want to be...a good time, good time girl.