Mixing parts of Jane Goodall with Meerkat Manor, my plan was to make a sort of Queercat Island. The disadvantages of this method were that it was highly expositional (a weakness of mine that I'm always fighting, thus my preference to tell stories in dialog) and that the stories were of my personal experiences which I couldn't transcribe as I was doing them.
What follows is my first draft, with the action taking place on the weekend before Memorial Day weekend.
They arrive off the waters of Long Island in an annual migration
transplanting hundreds upon thousands of them through the warmer
months. Notably featuring a well thought-out dissimilitude, the
homogenous species arrives first in the harbor.
Tom Ford TF 0021 Porfirio sunglasses protect their eyes from
actually meeting yet different gaggles of gays reform upon the arrival
of the ferry. Near the water, under a beechnut tree, current-season
cargo-shorted muscle bears reconvene with extended pectoral pounding.
Nearby, the starched upward collars of Marc Jacobs (also of the season)
Overdyed Jersey Polos interlock in the assorted embraces of anger
twinks, having not seen one another since “that ridiculous time at
Vlada; scandal!” Skulking nearby, a lone outsider searches for his own
gay gaggle as well, but he stands alone in his Abercrombie (last
season) cut-off jeans.
As the groups disperse, they follow the assorted boardwalked
habitrails, and as they leave the dock area, comfortable having found
groupings of similarity, they begin to more outwardly express more the
nature of their grouping. These traits are discernable in their manner
of walk, in their physical interactions, and in their vocalized
utterances.
Following one shirtless grouping, notable in their choice of Ginch Gonch underwear and low-riding cargos the following is heard:
“When’s Low Tea?”
“Well, it starts at five, which is probably about a half hour from now, but no one goes ‘til six.”
“Yeah, I know, but that’s what makes it funny.”
“What funny?”
“Look over there at the Fire Station. See the sign on the door?”
“The blue one?”
“Yes. Don’t you know what that means?”
“No.”
“It has A.A. on it, blondie.”
“What’s that mean?”
“A.A.”
“So what’s A.A.?”
“Alcoholics Anonymous. They’re totally meeting at the Fire Station right before Tea.”
“Oh my god. Classic!”
“I just had the funniest idea. We should tell James that we’re having an intervention here on the island.”
“As soon as he gets off the boat!”
“Yes! Tell him his mom and sister are here.”
“And his Dad. Tell him his Dad because they haven’t spoken in twelve years.”
“We should totally do that. Oh, look who’s coming out of the meeting.”
“Don’t look. It’s anonymous.”
“A girl needs to know these things.”
Most have planned their summer lodgings well in advance with many
leases signed in October the year previous. To learn more though, I
accompany someone in the search for a dwelling. Having used a cell
phone and the outside intercom to no avail, it is decided to simply
enter the home. Half-way across an elevated sidewalk some twenty feet
above ground, we are greeted by two muscle-bound males, their tails at
attention as they bark at us. Luckily, soon behind the Rottweilers
come another muscle-bound beast, this one a homo sapien.
His name is Marcello and he is renting the lower level of this
bayside home. His left eye slightly twitches as he introduces himself
with a firm handshake. Leading us inside, he introduces us to Paul,
who has apparently taken apart a lamp, but is now putting it back
together. Flashing a tight-faced grin, he waves hello and then resumes
his search of the breakfast nook surface where the lamp parts are
spread out.
Marcello explains the space as available:
“Yeah, is a two bedroom and they is two tween beds in each room and
the couch is make into a bed too, so you can sleep seex people very
easy here. And each of the bedrooms they has each a private entrance
so it’s very easy to keep your private. That’s my art on the walls and
sometimes I change it around so it will keep it all very fresh for
you. Now let me show you the outdoor gym. It has all you need here
for the gym because the one in town, let me tell you, is a piece of
sheet. We have more weights here and we has all these mirrors and you
can do whatever you want here with the mirrors. Okay and that takes us
to the pool and it should have a liner any day, but just not yet, but
it will be very nice.”
More and more detail is explained about the home without mention of
the bay view, the stunning architecture, or the four live swans in the
water just outside. As Marcello ends the presentation, with every
presentation point punctuated by his twitching eye, we plan our exit.
Paul looks up excitedly with a wing nut in his hand, placing it up to
the lamp, his face tightening again; his search resumed.
The diversity of the fauna of this island obviously warrants further
listening and so shall I continue to listen and share with you what is
seen, and especially what is heard here. This social
experiment. This Queercat Island.