Just up the Fire Island beach from where Uma Thurman hides, each summer the homosexuals gather in the Pines to enjoy the sun, the beach, and grain alcohol cocktails. But can a tiny beach town of vacationing Manhattanites handle too many celebugays in the bushes? Our Thpecial Correthpondent writes in after a harsh weekend:

It's still early, early season at Fire Island Pines, so when I spotted Ch 2's Andrew Kirtzman pulling his luggage down Fire Island Boulevard, I assumed that would be the sad extent of any celebrity sightings this weekend. But that was before the multiple encounters... [Ed. Note: snicker.]

...with the ubiquitous Carson Kressley, who showed up not just at High Tea Friday, but also at Low Tea Saturday, and then many hours later well into the wee hours of Sunday at the Pavillion nightclub, leaving only as the sun was rising over the Long Island coast—each time wearing a different ensembled culled from the pages of "The Preppy Handbook..."

It turns out that the agressive, funny, and winning personality he displays on Bravo every week is the real thing, and the gay crowds were universally charmed and adoring wherever he chose to show up. This was until High Tea on Sunday when he made the miscaculation of shouting out a broad gay hello across the patio to a very sullen Rufus Wainwright, whose very public recovery from crystal meth has been so painstakingly described in recent weeks in the pages of the New York Times Sunday Style section.

Wainwright seemed anything but flattered at the attention and somewhat nastily brushed aside the greeting from the crowd favorite Kressley. It wasn't so much embarassing to watch, as few people seemed to recognize Wainwright. Shortly thereafter, Kressley and his entourage swept out, and those of us who could identiy Wainwright were relieved that the uncomfortable air was dispelled and we could all go back to the comfort of our Planter's Punches.