I'm hoarse, I've got a twisted ankle, and I passed out along a no-name lane in Sheung Wan, on my way home.
What happened?
It was the first anniversary of T:ME Bar.
It felt like a house party. In this case, it was Barry & Fred's - the utterly scrumptious husbands who own the place - house party. Guests were plied with alcohol of various provenance. Nothing was uniform. You're drinking sparkling wine one moment, chardonnay the next, until finally nothing is left but loud, agressive red wines that everyone avoided drinking in the first few hours. There were prawn crackers, crackers and cheese, and even an uptight homo-on-crack.
I was interviewing various people for a story for Dim Sum Magazine, believe it or not, which must have been why I became hoarse. In true Hyperactive fashion, I spoke (shouted) more than my interviewees.
And then an uptight homo who didn't wanna make friends kept shooting Chris dagger looks for invading his space. The homo in question had overgreased hair. Each individual ringlet must have been brushed with a kilogram of pomade. "Get away from him," I told Chris. "unless you want to get killed."
And then I met a trolly dolly named Dragon. We flirted. Chris took photos.
We must have had a kebab afterwards because I can still taste the garlic sauce in my breath...
T:ME Bar has decidedly come into its own. From a cozy, little watering hole in some no-name lane in NoHo, it has now become a jumping, happening T:ME bomb!
Big congrats to Barry and Fred, and to their coterie of elfin twink bartenders!
Happy birthday, T:ME!
With Affection,
James
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