Dight of Desire19 Images
The party had just started before I was already steamy, sweaty and naked. A wall street bus basement hideaway in New York’s financial district attracted more than 100 scenes adjacent to city literature, devouring wet tiles from 10pm until late at night on Tuesdays. We were there for steaming to strangers, schwitz, socializing, og’s regular bath feed, but under a different outfit: a series of desire-themed readings.
The event, held on March 11th, was hosted by Joy-seeking author Kamille Sojit Paicha, a newsletter of sex and desire. Readings from Sojit Pejcha, Brontez Purnell, Cat Cohen, J Wortham, Jaboukie, Liara Roux, Mary HK Choi, Old Jewish Men and Sherry Ning have appeared. Each person took a theme based on their own terms. SojitPejcha explored the forbidden eroticism of workplace crashes. Cat Cohen was able to ice skate some laughable and worthy poems, hopeful, very thin and small, with Cream Brew’s dishes. Jaboukie read “fan” fiction about fucking Mitch McConnell in his first poly encounter.
Of course, the real kickers were that the speakers, listeners, subgel employees, and even the bathhouse staff were wearing swimsuits. There’s no need to imagine an audience in your underwear here.
Anna Maria Lopez / @annamariaalopez
While most of the audience were demoted to the side of the pool and capacity hot tub, the party’s most enjoyable members spent the event completely immersed in the pool itself. Writer and influencer Harry Hill, for example, swam from group to group, rested on my knees and set it before paddled another friend.
Tickets for the event sold out within minutes, and a waitlist of 300 people quickly accumulated. Last year, Substack threw a series of equally popular events in unique spaces, from reading at giant churches to discussions at burlesque clubs (I have read it myself).
In planning the event, Subrack’s Matt Starr and Sophia Efthimiatou worked with Sojit Pejcha to coordinate the night that broke the usual bright reading mold. “It was kind of forced intimacy,” Sojit Paicha told me. “We were thrown together into this surreal environment, especially when many of the interactions on dating apps were following scripts. There was no script for this.”
The baths presented natural sights, performed with themes of socialization and ancient methods of cruising spaces, making desires a natural focus. Over the past few months, there has been a revival of bathhouses with a high-tech, new age focus. Venues such as Remedy Place and other locations here in New York City highlight infrared saunas and cold plunges as part of a new type of social space.
However, the party was clearly not about health. The party, of course, had an open bar to add a delusional effect to the nature of being in a wet Russian bathhouse at the turn of the night surrounded by colleagues and acquaintances in the industry. But the Wall Street bus bar is special. In addition to the regular liquor you may be pouring, they infuse their own vodka into flavors of horseradish, lemon, blackcurrant and raspberry. I was planning on drinking regular vodka soda all night, but the staff were promptly encouraged to take shots of my work instead.
Anna Maria Lopez / @annamariaalopez
At the end of the measurements, I headed back out of the pool for a shot of cheeky horseradish. As soon as I absorbed it, I was tug by a group of attendees into the sauna area, and bathing employees were wearing classic banya hats and sucking in a bucket of cold water. Soaked and frozen, I was brought to the sauna. The sauna was taken to a small layer of towels forming a bed that was told to lie on a bench. If you know anything about Russian baths, you know what happened next. I was repeatedly slapped on an oak branch. I could only withstand about a minute of a combination of my brain-flagged fever and horseradish liquor combinations that I might pass out.
But when I was about to leave the area I was once again sucked in cold water and then drawn into another sauna with a routine that followed. I tried to escape again, but this time I was told to completely sink into their icy bath. I adhered and actually refreshed a bit… before I was taken to the sauna again to slap another oak branch. A few more minutes later, I finally managed to convey it with a series of words and hand signals. Finally, the employee wrapped me up like a newborn in three towels and handed me a large bottle of Polish spring water. “I’m going to remove a lot of wax from my ears tomorrow,” a friend told me. Instead, I think I just had a bad hangover. Or maybe that was all the toxins that the oak branches dug out of my body had dug away from my body.
I certainly stared at many guests like a bias towards myself, but it’s hard to say if the event was really all erotic. Behind the room in the hot tub, we saw something that seemed to be a bit of a mix as our patrons sat on each other’s laps. You had to imagine that some numbers had been exchanged and probably even had some encounters. “If someone messed up or fell in love last night, please DM me,” Sojit Paicha said the next day. Cruising definitely happens everywhere, but I don’t know how it happens on a daily basis at this particular venue, that known for Sturgeon and Borsch. But it was undoubtedly vulnerable and fun. It’s hard to get on your phone when you’re taking a shot, swimming in the pool, or throwing a bucket of cold water. And is there anything erotic in it?
