The Good Time Girls MxM (Staten Krown)

1

GOGO

"I want to be."

"I want to be."

"I want to be."

"A good time, good time, good time girl..."

We had arrived at our favorite place when the song began to play. Of course none of us were girls. The good-time girls was a song from this musical called Over here! Lacey-Tyler loved. He was twirling around in circles now dancing to it as we walked into Bohemia.

Let me tell you about Bohemia's ok...it was better then Heaven. It belonged to Mr. Volpa. Mr. Volpa was the 50ish guy with the square frames that wasn't gay but just loved being around the gay scene because it kept him feeling stylish. So why not open up a gay diner above New Alphabet City.

New Alphabet City, of course wasn't in New York. It was in located in Downtown Pittsburgh. The area wasn't the richest. It was struggling...shit we were struggling every single day. Art and culture was blooming everywhere around us and of course art and culture attracted a large gay population.

"Mr. Volpa, play Good-Time Girls over!" Lacey-Tyler cried, "I want to be, I want to be, I want to be a Good-Time, Good-Time, Good-Time girl!"

He was so loud. Hell we all were loud though, so I guess it didn't matter. Lacey was having his own little moment too, dancing with his hands flinging around.

"No more musicals!" Volpatt cried back from the kitchen.

Not that many people came into Bohemia around this time to eat. I mean, it was like 5 am in the morning. We always came in after a night full of making ourselves look like fucking idiots, sluts and alcoholics at one of the many gay clubs in the area.

It was the four of us.

It had always been the four of us, since we all dropped out of college, we all decided to take a tour of country with the last bit of money we had saved up. We moved from New York to Pittsburgh...just 6 hours a way. One hell of a tour, huh?

Truth is we ran out of money.

"Volpatt, shots! Volpatt!"

That last comment was by Breezy. Breezy was well...my favorite alcoholic. Every good-time group needed an alcoholic right? He waved his hands in the air, drool dripping from his mouth as he demanded more alcohol. He couldn't even keep his hands in the air for much longer. Of course his name wasn't Breezy. His name was Willis Breeze. I'd known Breezy since I was three...ha.

"Whiskey, you had enough, stop it before I punch you in your face," Mickey started with him.

Mickey was the violent one. I guess he was the closest any of us came to being responsible. That was saying a handful because Mickey was somewhat of a hypocrite since he himself was drunk. He was always a hypocrite and he was always fighting. He knew he didn't make sense half of the time.

"Well I haven't had enough," I say as I stand up on the table.

"Gogo if I had a quarter for every time you stood up on a table!"

Yeah...I was Gogo.

My name wasn't always Gogo. It was George Travis. Of course, who would want to go around with a name like George Travis? Not me. Hell. I don't know why I started being called Gogo. Maybe because on a good day, I was a gogo dancer in the club or maybe because I loved Gogo Yubari from Kill Bill. Either way I was Gogo of the Good-Time Girls. We were the Good-Time girls because well we couldn't be the Boogie-Down Boys since they were our competitors. Our squad was the most fun having, entertaining, loose in the goose group around these parts and we were going to HOLD that title no matter what.