The days of gay clubs clustering into one or two New York City neighborhoods are over. Even my old stomping grounds over in Bushwick, that’s in Brooklyn, evidently has a booming nightlife scene for the gay party goers.
It what was once part of Brooklyn’s thriving industrial parks. In typical Twilight Zone fashion this was my stop at Willoughby on the Morgan station off the L. The subway can take you there but I decided to walk it after Jonathan and BPro invited me to experience what the locals call Morgantown. Officially unrecognized except for those who embrace life there, this up and coming hot spot is home to hundreds of artists and hipster types who have an itch to live off the map and away from their spoiled Williamsburg neighbors.
Stumbling home off the L in Bushwick two weekends ago, I was surprisingly sober (for the most part) until I got to my apartment. I live on the third floor of a converted factory and all is quiet for the most part. Nobody in my building pays any mind to each other and it feels like one giant soulless hole filled with individuals who do not acknowledge reality. Upon unlocking the door I was hit with a giant bass thump. “What the hell was that,” I thought. Just then my doorbell rings. Read more