9 March 14-20, 2024 miaminewtimes.com | browardpalmbeach.com New Times | Contents | Letters | news | night+Day | CuLture | Cafe | MusiC | Bolano. Like any doorperson, Alan can be- come caustic when dealing with inebriated clientele. But that’s an incomplete picture. “I remember Alan and I were in New York City by the Port Authority,” says longtime friend Barbara Love, “and I guess this woman — she was with her baby and her lug- gage — looked down and out and with a new- born. She was struggling to push the luggage and the stroller, so Alan walked up to her, of- fered help, and we walked her to the Port Au- thority. Alan is in your face when at the door. He’s funny, and he’ll pick on you, but he’s caring to everyone and doesn’t hesitate to make you feel good.” “I’ve known Alan for 20 years,” says Hugo Ieremia, who works security detail at Space and has worked with Alan as far back as the days when Liquid was open on Miami Beach. “We all fall under his shadow. I remember he gave me a piece of tile from Liquid for my birthday. Not many people can do that.” Bolano has worked alongside him for the better part of a year. With a three-decade age difference, she takes any advice from the elder statesman to heart. “It’s always a good laugh with him. Just hearing his sto- ries makes me want to have the memory he has when I get older,” she explains. “The biggest thing is that I am always comfort- able around him.” Alan’s boyfriend, Brian Chavarro, can at- test that there is more to him than the person everyone sees bleary-eyed at 3 a.m. Naturally, they met at Floyd, but Chavarro is no club rat. In fact, he hadn’t even heard the name Alan T before their encounter last year. “I went to Floyd alone one night, and he walked me in, and we started talking. We have been together ever since,” he says. “Every day is an adven- ture. We feed the fish in the bay. We go every- where on his Vespa. Alan will send postcards to his friends in the mail when it’s their birth- day. He’ll go to thrift shops and find fun cards. He knows when someone’s birthday is and bakes them a cake. He’ll ask me sometimes to drop a cake off for someone at Space.” Home Sweet Home Alan’s family has gathered at his Miami apartment for dinner, including his sister, Ca- mile; brother, Victor Jr.; his brother’s girl- friend; and friend, Sharon Winston. Every square inch of wall space is dedi- cated to art and music, with free-form paint- ings hanging in every conceivable space and spray-painted mannequins sitting on the bal- cony. Under the staircase is a piano adorned with Ahol Sniffs Glue’s signature eyeball mo- tif while two faux sharks covered in mirrored crystals float above. In the foyer, neatly placed on a side table, are diplomas and photos of a young Alan, while his childhood drawings hang in the kitchen. In the bathroom, the walls are plastered with old flyers for pool and gay parties from the ‘90s and 2000s. Everyone’s enjoying a smorgasbord of fruits, cheeses, and meat while Alan is in the kitchen frying up bacon for his famous pasta carbonara. Disco and new wave music pour out of a nearby cassette player. “All these songs are hits,” Alan chimes in. As he’s cooking, Alan remarks that the idea of growing up and “falling out of music and nightlife” doesn’t make much sense. “I just don’t get it. I speak to some friends who stopped going out 20 years ago. Like, why do you have to fall out of music like it’s a fad?” Even at his most casual, Alan is wearing gym shorts adorned with metal spikes. Still, it’s family time. His brother lives nearby, while Camille is visiting from New York City. The night is filled with stories from the past, with the phrase “remember when” being used repeatedly. The family raises their glasses before saying, “Cin cin!” During dinner, Camille described her rela- tionship with Alan as “joined at the hip.” “I couldn’t wait to spend time with Alan when he moved to New York,” Camille says, remembering the days when her little brother was studying at Columbia. “I would ditch my friends to hang out with him.” [email protected] Alan T stands behind Danny Tengalia in the DJ booth at Club Space's Terrace. Alan has been a fixture at the venue for nearly two decades. Photo by Adinayev
