29 Fire Island DOs and DON'Ts

For gay men in New York, summer often means one thing — Fire Island. Even with the boycotts, expensive drinks, and actual fires that so often consume Cherry Grove and the Pines, there’s simply nothing like a weekend amid all that sand and sex. Here’s what you need to know to avoid a Fire Island flame-out. —Richard William Allen

You’ll be too busy cruising at Penn Station before your track number is announced to organize a brunch on your phone.

The ATM-to-human being ratio rivals that of most Third World countries, and many places don’t take credit or debit cards.

Gone Girl? “I’m a basic bitch who may or may not finish one book a year.” Foucault’s The History of Sexuality? “I’m only here collecting research for my thesis on the intersection of class privilege and outsider sexual practice, and I’m probably judging you.” Try something like Tab Hunter Confidential, which says, “I’m fun and not overly serious, but aware of a world before 1990.”

They’re so over it. They just wanna like, do their job, man.

We're teasing (a bit) of course, but as in most of life, being pretty and/or monied will make the experience far more pleasant.

Fire Island is like Mayberry, if Andy and Opie and Aunt Bea were hot, privileged circuit queens. Embrace the opportunity to drop your urban armor.

Your six vodka-and-sodas aren’t going to be the decisive factor in who wins the next presidential election.

There's a lot of drinking in Fire Island. Remember to drink water!

Though, for the love of God. There’s always Provincetown if you can’t take a weekend off from politics. Buncha hippies up there.

There are many wonderful poor people in the world, but outside of Russia and the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, very few of them have second homes.

Your new friends may expect you to put out in exchange for future invitations. Remember, being a courtesan means never again searching the dunes at 3 a.m. for a missing room key.

They’re a bit pricey for food that can best be described as “utilitarian,” and you’re not going to faint before you get to Cherry Grove.

This is one of the few places where you can relax the “No nipples at the table” rule.

The Bates Motel had more charm and better amenities, and didn’t cost $300 a night.

Like a Venetian wedding cake rising from the sea, it gives high vulgarity a good name, and its clothing-optional policy does the same for low vulgarity.

Truvada, Cialis, condoms, lube, poppers, cock ring? CHECK!

Or your not-yet-FDA-approved-smuggled-in-from-France SPF 100 sunblock. You know your skin better than I do, but mine thinks it’s always 1976 on Fire Island.

Your fragile sense of self-worth will thank you when you’re stripping down at the beach. (Disclaimer: The author may not actually follow all of these suggestions.)

Pumping Irony, 2013, Darren Jones
Text intervention on gym motivational board
6" x 18"

Take some time off from striving for perfection to reap the rewards. Isn’t the point of taking care of your body the license to occasionally abuse it?

(Limited edition T-shirts from Jeff Greenspan, unfortunately sold out)

Perhaps something like “I’m not as fat and gross as I feel right now. I’m not as fat and gross as I feel right now.”

Best err on the side of too small with your swim trunks. Board shorts? What are you, Amish?

We know you think his excited scampering through the sand is adorable, but we don’t find sand being kicked in our eyes, nose, mouth, and hair at all cute.

It’s 2016. Only straight bros and homos in Ohio bother with that anymore. (And drag queens, but they have their reasons.)

Every year on the Fourth of July, they stage the Invasion of the Pines, a symbolic reenactment of Fire Island’s own Stonewall moment. It’s more fun and less earnest than that sounds.

25. DO try to do something that has an end goal other than bronzed skin and orgasms. One hears there are beautiful … national parks or a lighthouse or something? I’m not sure, really. Maybe explore some wooded areas other than the Meat Rack?

You deserve some kind of reward for schlepping out to that boring lighthouse.

Meat Rack Study, gouache, 2012 by George Towne. See more of his artwork here.

That’s often code for “orgy.”

It’s rude, and you don’t really want to know. You came here to have a good time, not a Marxist awakening.

Everyone is friendly, and even just a day trip wandering around what looks like the most beautiful summer camp ever can be restorative.