Ego Stroking and Sun Burns on Fire Island

This Memorial Day weekend I met up with some good college friends for a few nights in Fire Island, a narrow strip of land just off of the southern coast of Long Island. It was my first time there and we had a blast, all around.

When I first arrived I realized that my expectations of what the island looked like, and the people who inhabit it, were way off. For some reason I envisioned the place as extremely underdeveloped, like a small, simple cluster of houses hugging the beach surrounded by waves of sand dunes. But in fact we stayed in a reasonably sized town filled with restaurants, stores, a police station, even a little grocery.

Still -- my predictions were not entirely off, as there were no roads, only wide, paved walkways. Kind of like enhanced sidewalks. Alternative roads, like the canals of Venice. People liked using bikes to make their way around the island, and used carts to carry around excess baggage. The lack of cars was a nice touch that added to the place's intimacy.

The small size of everything and its seclusion did inflate prices ($6 beers, $3 gatorades), and the police had the authority to make ridiculous rules like prohibiting people from biking through town.

I also assumed that the majority of folks we'd run into would not exactly be good ole' boy NASCAR lovers. Fire Island has a reputation for being a haven of the -- lets say, Brokeback Mtn. crowd, and I was fully anticipating that we'd be some ex-soccer studs awash in a sea of rainbow colored bathing suits and fashionable sun glasses. Instead, the scene was more reminiscent of a spot on the Jersey shore or a trip to a techno club in Staten Island. The first indication of this was my ferry ride over to the Island from the mainland, at 8:45 on Saturday night. Affliction tees, blow outs, and unnecesary sun glasses were prevalent. Everyone was drinking surreptitiously from Sprite bottles, and were quick to insult one another or those around them (when their objects couldn't hear).

My friends and I stayed in a hotel, on the second floor of a restaurant/bar located on the main strip of the town. Hotels are not the most popular way of spending time on the island, as most folks rent out houses. And as a result they're pretty neglected. But ours had charm, in a run-down, dilapidated sort of way. The bathroom had no shower (we used communal showers down the hall), and the adjacent room's bathroom (as there were 8 of us we needed two rooms) was so small that its sink was located about a foot from the bed in the bedroom. The small size of the room kept the atmosphere nice and lively when we were all spending time in one.

The weather for the trip was great, and we played a good game of touch football on the beach our first full day in the AM after everyone had downed several beers. A thick fog that obscured the view up and down the length of beach gave way to some nice sun. Unfortunately the other team cheated (lots of pass interference) and so we only managed a tie. Yours truly was second pick, an obvious underestimation of my talent.

Our nights out were spent pre-gaming in the hotel room and dancing in one of the many clubs in town. Few events really stick out as note worthy, but one was very comedic.

A friend of mine who happens to be rather frank with the ladies sat in on a conversation among a table of girls while we were waiting for some late night pizza and ended up in a heated discussion with one who, in the course of it, called him "ineffectual." Aside from the fact that this is only arguably an actual word, it really doesn't mean anything and anyone who says it (particularly as an insult) ought to be tarred & feathered. Upon hearing this accusation my friend proceeded to make fun of this girls clothing, which was completely legitimate considering what she was wearing: a black tee shirt whose sleeves and waist were tassled. On the front was a picture of what could have been a care-bear or horse. She was therefore referred to as "tassle bitch," and may she die slow.

Anyways I won't get into too many anecdotal accounts. I'll just say that for anyone hoping to go to Fire Island, the best thing to do is to rent a place and expect to be surrounded by greasy guidos. Also bring your own provisions, as shit's expensive as all hell.