Haus Edelweiss, a New York story

Jun 1, 2023, 12:17 AM

One of my favorite New York stories to tell. (Be forewarned, the tranny-phobic will be horrified.) This is a LONG story.

So probably 25-years ago, when the money was flowing in publishing, a few of my buddies from work would carouse a couple of times a year. During Thanksgiving week, Cigar Aficionado would sponsor the Big Smoke, which was a cool event, in the days when you could still smoke cigars inside. So that would be one of our occasional forays. It was a great, with pricey tchotchkes from cigar, booze, and manly accessory makers. It cost a fortune, but was fun and you went home with some good stuff, lots of free consumables. This year it was Tuesday, but I knew I was taking Wednesday off and the missus knew I would probably stay in the city.

So this one year, we were charged up after the Big Smoke and decided we needed a proper meal, so headed to the midtown Morton's (I loved Morton's during the heyday of Morton's - we'd see who could eat at the most different locations). So that was steak and wine aplenty, surely on the corporate expense account (I recall there was also a pricey strip joint that had their credit card bills print out as Food and Wine, for the benefit of their clients) and we were a dignified if undisciplined crowd. I was the youngest and will blame that for participating in inappropriate corporate behavior. (I pause to consider that half of the group is dead now.) In any case, having had our fill of cigars, steak, and wine, we rumbled to a bar for nightcaps.

At this point, my youthful reserves started to kick-in. While the older farts were starting to fade, I was kind of ready to go. One fella amongst us was gay, and suggested we all go to the infamous bar Haus Edelweiss on 11th Avenue in Hell's Kitchen. Now Haus Edelweiss was famous back in the day, as it was about the most notorious tranny club in the city (despite being far from the Village). They were constantly taking heat for the condoms on the sidewalk and strewn in the on-street parking spots every morning. I admit that it is kind of gross, but curiosity ruled. Of course everyone said they wanted to go, but by the time we got there, it was only Robert and myself.

So as we were getting ready to enter, Robert was very clear, "you will not see an actual woman in here tonight." (Tonight, at this point, being around midnight.) So we walked in the place and there was a cozy bar, like any bar, up front, and a larger back room that was a little more well lit with more space to move around. We cut through the first and hit the bar at the far back wall and ordered a couple of drinks. "Robert," I said, "clearly the bartender is a woman." Robert just laughed and told me to look at her hands. Well good lordy - I need to stay on my toes. After we finished back there, we decided to move to the front bar, and that is where I started to develop a better understanding of the crowd.

It became clear that there were three "types" (outside of the two of us) in Haus Edelweiss. First, and maybe the most perplexing, were those that looked... like they just got off practice with the Giants, threw on a shapeless frock, and came out to the bar. I suppose those were more technically cross-dressers, but they weren't fooling (or even attempting to fool) anyone. I wasn't sure what to make of these folks - and I don't think that even today that I think of them as "she/her" because this was about cross-dressing, not trans. Different strokes.

The second (and dominant, at Edelweiss) group was a wee bit sad (though maybe I am just being condescending). They were maybe getting into middle-age. They were almost passable - certainly not 100% passable, but probably if you were drunk. I liken them to (we all know them) the middle-aged single-women-with-cats who were assistants at the office. Nice people, sad singles, looking for somebody, even if that somebody wasn't going to be me. One of those women (definitely would call her a trans woman, as opposed to the male cross-dresser) plopped down in a chair next to use, pulled out a cigarette and waited for a light. Back in the day, I had that nasty smoking habit so grabbed a lighter and passed it down. She looked at it disdainfully, making my faux pas clear. I apologized for the gaffe, lit her smoke, and was introduced to Alexandria. She would return.

So after Robert and I finished that round, we moved back to the big room and grabbed a small table better for people watching (as the clock continued to roll). This is where I discovered the third group of clientele at Haus Edelweiss. You would absolutely never know they weren't natural women. There was so much preening, like it was a competition. People were dropping trou and showing off tight bods (with nothing but thongs down below) and it really was remarkable. I couldn't get how anyone could be in that kind of shape to pull that off. It was impressive.

But time continued to pass and even Haus Edelweiss closes (2 a.m., IIRC). As we got closer to 2, we realized that the two of us were the last people (and only "men") sitting at a table in the room and that all of these trannies were circling our table... like we were a couple of pieces of meat, LOL, not really! But to be honest, I was still wide awake, so I loudly remarked to Robert, "so what's open when this place closes?" Suddenly, Alexandria was at our table, offering her skill in finding the next destination. We had no interest in asking questions, so followed our self-appointed guide outside and hailed a cab, which took us to the Flatiron District.

Everything was dark (I had an After Hours moment) but Alexandria knocked on a door at what appeared to be (during regular business hours) the Thai restaurant Bangkok Cafe. After some cajoling by Alexandria, we were allowed entry.

This was one of the damndest places I've ever been in ever. So they had rolled down and taped window shades so that no light would leak out of the place. What would have been tables for dining were now table games - blackjack, poker, there might even have been some dice games going. We were immediately ditched by Alexandria (no problem) and sidled up to the bar for more drinks, though most of the bar was being used for lines of coke. This was truly the contemporary speakeasy. And the place was bonkers.

At a certain point, Robert decided to seek out some cocaine, something that I had never previously tried. I don't know why we didn't snort it off the bar, when that's what so many were doing, but we thought to sneak to the men's room, which was a mob scene. In the midst of the crowd we did our coke, while any myriad of drugs were being consumed in the restroom and the stalls were seemingly reserved for vigorous sex. I made my way to a urinal to take a leak and can still remember thinking, "if the cops (or thieves) bust this place, I have absolutely no explanation for my presence." At this point, things are a little fuzzy. But as the clock neared 6, last call was called, as this joint needed to once against become Bangkok Cafe in the morning, to serve the office workers lunch. (I have occasionally passed Bangkok Cafe over the years, getting pangs of sentiment, but looking now I see that it is closed, which makes me oddly sad.)

As best as I recall, Robert headed to his apartment while I went to the office and locked myself in my office until about 7, when I could walk to Grand Central to catch a train home. The missus picked me up, not completely sympathetic to my state, but got me home where I took a shower and a nap, before her parents arrived for the Thanksgiving holidays.

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Haus Edelweiss, a New York story

So, how did Robert’s

oh, that's mean!

TL,DR***

Good stuff. I spent some time in NYC in the 90s and

Being that you're in publishing...

clap clap clap. Bravo.

Re: clap clap clap. Bravo.

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