A certain dichotomy is developing over these past couple of weekends as I find myself in the midst of Fire Island rush hour on the Long Island Rail Road. Just this past weekend, for example, I left mid day Friday to head to Nassau County to visit my parents. In doing so I caught the extent of seer-sucking, aviator wearing homosexuals heading east towards Sayville. The gay man’s life has always seemed a bit fanciful to me, unobtainable even, something out of a movie that I was never able to achieve – which has always led me to feel a slight disconnect from the community. Somehow they have the time to work a job that allots them the freedom, luxury and finances for a Fire Island share; but also have the time to maintain a glamorous social life and participate in a gym routine that results in a perfectly sculpted body. I on the other hand can barely allocate funds that allot me the freedom to ride the MTA Subway system on a weekly basis, and despite rigorous efforts, still have the physique of a prepubescent girl.