(photo: Guess who's having the best birthday week ever?)
For her birthday, all Di wanted was to gather pals around a brunch table, or to quote the Candyman, bust out a bottle of Asti Spumanti, pop off the cork and rock with her posse. And it all began as planned at Joe's Americana on Newbury, one of the few restaurants progressive enough to serve brunch on Saturdays. We engaged our attentive and doting waiter George in flirtatious, witty banter like a bunch of old aunts. We showered Di with funky jewelry and sheer scarves and by the time she finished her Benedict, she looked like a belly dancer.
After brunch, Paige and Ingrid said they were off to the Santa Speedo Race, an annual half-naked charity dash involving men in Santa-red Speedos. Our curiosity and the desire to have another holiday cocktail with pals compelled us to sign on and continue our reveling down Boylston Street toward the Alley.
(photo: Paige unmoored in a sea of Santa Speedos)
We mentally prepared ourselves for the inevitable "bad nudity" or as LP put it, the "Speedon'ts" usually prevalent at such exhibitionist events. But once we arrived at the Alley, we were delightfully surprised by the scenery.
LP, looking around at all the heterosexual footwear, noted she was surprised to see the gay community so underrepresented at what seemed like a flagship event.
(photo: Say "Speeedo")
But seconds later, hot on the trail of red-bummed, hopelessly buff Philly Boys, came Ernesto and his pals, commenting that it's like Christmas. Tony had a press pass for the South End News and Boston.com which he used to snap up close and personal shots of a few choice Santas. Tony works for neither media outlet.
(photo: Christmas arrives early at the Big Cheesy)
As a rule, the Speedo is not a good look for anyone but there are exceptions and this was one of them. Maybe it was the Santa hats, or the charitable motives, or maybe the heat was cranked up too damn high at the Cheesy. As usual, what began as a sophisticated brunch outing became a sordid and sweaty affair.