And That's the Great Thing About Fire Island

This is the only story I have about New York City:

I was at my company's holiday party. After the party we went to the pool hall across the street from G. I played a few games, then wandered over to G with my friend Annie to meet up with Curt, a co-worker of ours.

Curt had refused to go to the pool hall. He and his boyfriend went straight to G and apparently had been drinking the entire time. We were making small talk when Annie excused herself to go get a drink.

I was wedged between Curt and his boyfriend, who had invited me to come to their place on Fire Island. What follows is an exact transcript of the conversation:

Curt: Well, you know, that's the great thing about Fire Island. If you want to party, you can party. If you want to relax, you can relax.

Boyfriend: And that's what makes Fire Island great. If you want to party, you can party. If you want to relax, you can relax.

Curt: Which really is the great thing about Fire Island. If you want to party, you can party. But if you want to relax, you can relax.

Boyfriend: And that's the great thing about Fire Island...

It went on like that for fifteen minutes. I was transfixed. How long could they keep this up? Did they have any idea they were repeating themselves? Just how fucked up were they?

In the end they flaked on the Fire Island invite. Curt left the company shortly thereafter. I'm not sure I ever saw him again.