Scott Herman is a straight ally and a gay sex object
Last night was GLAAD Manhattan (tons more photos at Guest of a Guest), an event held at 230 Fifth's swanky rooftop garden and bar that was hosted by Bethenny Frankel. Well, she hosted it in the sense that she showed up looking smashing, GLAADly did unguarded interviews with every outlet on the red carpet and then split without ever setting foot in the party.
Empire state of mind—José and I
It was a steamy affair—New York + humidity = everyone swimming in their underwear. To make matters worse, I'd walked over from Times Square in my jacket. There was a tropical theme but I don't look good in floral shirts, so I had to improvise, grabbing a Hawaiian T-shirt of mine that has since become one of José's pajama tops and wearing it under my jacket. Of course, half the people arrived in shorts and tank tops. Leave it to the guy who has worn long pants once all summer to be overdressed.
GLAAD: Just an idea, but try a slave auction next time...
Speaking of which, the first thing I spotted when I got off the elevator was a mass of barely-clad models showing off their swimsuits. Turns out they were auctioning off their worn Speedos. I got close enough to see that they were wearing something under the Speedos (so fetishists would think this auction failed the smell test), but I didn't have $90+ on me anyway. I have no doubt they found plenty of takers at varying price points.
What a drag!
The carpet was as small as the minds of the people GLAAD is up against, but quite chummy. The lesbian videographer next to me from Go nudged me out of her shot so gently it felt like I was being put to bed by Mother. There were some Z-list celebs to contend with—bless them, though—which is only difficult in that you feel like an asshole having to discreetly ask who they are. The only one I really had to roll my eyes at was a blonde bombshell who told me, when I asked why coming out to this event was important, that she loves parties.
Jujubee made perspiration look elegant
I was shocked when several of the evening's drag performers blew off the cute reporter next to me. Apparently, he was friends with them, so they weren't taking him seriously. Lookit, if you're a drag queen at an event, you better be willing to pose for photos until the flashes die out and answer every question asked of you.