Getting Lucky at a Vegan Potluck
Through the lobby?where a couple of young folks seem to be reporting a bias incident. Then up in an elevator and down a ramp, wandering around a rabbit's warren of rooms on the third floor of the Lesbian-Gay Community Center on Little W. 12th St. Past posters for events like "Masters and Slaves Together." It's the fourth Sunday of the month, time for the Vegout?a potluck dinner for lesbian, gay, bi and transgender vegetarians. Actually, it's recommended that participants bring vegan dishes, just to make sure everyone can share everything.
A mini-crisis of sorts, then, when it's discovered that someone's kugel contains eggs, as kugels tend to. But this is a mellow crowd, and the anxiety mainly afflicts the first-timer who brought the offending pudding. Vegans just won't eat it, he's reassured?and there are plenty of other desserts. Some prepared their contributions themselves. Others admit that they bought theirs.
"I never cook anything," one soul confesses.
The turnout for this week's Vegout was small, no more than a dozen, which might have been due to the fact that the Blade listed the event's date wrong. The age range was from the mid-20s to the mid-50s; all, except for two, were men. A newcomer from the Midwest, in the city two months, sat across from an older man who held confidently forth. Talk flowed organically from topic to topic: from Israel to Fort Greene bars to the bathroom at G. The Norman Conquest even came up at one point. Nobody talked about what they do for a living. People said things like, "I used to drink there, when I used to drink." Concern about the environment was expressed. Some were anti-fur, some anti-leather.
The evening's organizer was a bit of a martinet, vigilant about collecting the five-dollar entrance fee, and woe to he who threw his plate in the trash.
"What is this animal-tested crap," he asked, pulling out a bottle of bright blue, decidedly non-environmentally-friendly detergent. He was half-joking.
Dinner broke up. Leftover food was taken home or palmed off on "the people downstairs"?the volunteers/employees in the center's lobby. Several of the men headed off to a talk by an Israeli gay rights activist. Three more attendees, either less political or less Jewish, discussed going to the movies.
"You know what I want to see?" said a woman. "You'll think it's silly, but I want to see Bedazzled! Elizabeth Hurley!"
"I love Brendan Fraser," said her male roommate.
And so off they went to the theater.