Tag Archives: dancing

Dancing at a Gay Bar

14 May

ImageI was born and raised by very smart and tolerant parents.  I grew up in Berkeley, CA, historically one of the most liberal and culturally open-minded cities in the world.  Using the word gay to describe something as stupid was wiped from my lexicon right around the time Jincos went out of style, and in past years I have congratulated and admired the courage of friends and acquaintances who have come out.  If there were gay rights trading cards, my character would have high tolerance, 9 acceptance, 10 respect, and telekinesis, because that’s awesome.  With all this power and pedigree, however, the moment I stepped foot in the Abbey in West Hollywood and an impish Asian man caressed the chest hair protruding from my modest v-neck, I flipped out.

 

ImageThere are 3 stages a straight man experiences at a gay dance club.  Awe, denial and acceptance.  Along with handsy Asians, there were sweaty go-go dancers, neon cocktails, dudes making out, really hot girls holding hands and a bakery!?  The only words I could muster the first hour were whiskey and ginger.  I wandered the big gay expanse, my glass clutched tight to my chest; taking measured sips ready to hand check the next fun boy who got too fresh.  This was denial.  Petty thoughts began to creep in.  Everyone in here thinks I’m gay don’t they?  They think I like to kiss dudes!?  But who cares right?  I am tolerant and accepting!  I am from Berkeley!!…Oh god is that go-go dancer swinging his dick in concentric circles?!

 

ImageIt was around this time I had a moment of clarity, or my 4th whiskey, whatever.  These guys were having the time of their lives.  There was no pretension, very few games from what I could see and nothing shrouded in mystery.  This was hollering in its purest form, unadulterated and to the point.  Guy thinks guy is hot, makes the approach, grind and drink, make out, maybe share a bear claw, and then go home together.  Respect.  Gay bar etiquette is far more evolved than straight bar game could ever hope to be.

 

ImageAfter a few more whiskeys and a peanut butter cookie (seriously what the hell is going on here? this place is delightful) I accepted my surroundings.  I spent the last hour trying to convince a cute girl from Bahrain I wasn’t gay.  It was an uphill battle, as she pointed out I was wearing a v-neck and had blonde hair, apparently criteria for being a homosexual I was unaware of.  I finally told her I would have sex with her in the bathroom as proof, or in the back of the bakery if she preferred, but she declined and we didn’t speak again. 

 

I left The Abbey proud.  It was amazing to see so many happy people leaving one place.  I wish all bigots and politicians could spend an evening at The Abbey and experience a similar range of emotions that I did.  If only everybody could have the unwavering tolerance and progressive thinking that I….oh my god all these guys are going home to have sex with each other aren’t they?!  Well, at least someone is getting laid.  Acceptance.

 

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Haggards at the Gate

23 May

Their Magic is Strong

The oft forgotten yet always there
Whose intentions made clear with vicious stares
The proud may fight and suffer terrible fates
When they meet the haggards at the gate
-A Fallen Hero

When you are a single guy out for a night on the town you must be a warrior. You must be prepared for battle in any form it manifests. I have conquered the unexpected stomach grumblers of the south and retreated to a nearby Chinese restaurant to re strategize. I have danced the forbidden “dance of the largess” and escaped with only mild B.O. and a phone number. I’ve engaged in the perpetual banter of the witty and come out exhausted but unscathed. My banner men (bros?) who fight bravely with me in the field would lavish me with praise and speak to my fealty and pretty sweet dance moves. There is one enemy, however, one battle I have yet to figure out or emerge victorious from. I speak of the haggards at the gate.

The haggards are a proud group. Undeservedly so, but proud nonetheless. They guard their attractive friends with a passion and bloodlust that renders most warriors useless. Depending on the rabid nature of a particular haggard, one may spend as few as twenty seconds or as long as an entire evening trying to marginalize their presence. On certain nights the numbers are in your favor. With a stirring enough whiskey induced battle cry, you might convince a fellow warrior to “jump on the grenade,” “fall on the battle axe,” or as it should be known “just generally have a bad night with an ugly girl.” Other nights you are outnumbered. Your banner men may be tired and resort to comment making in the corner or talk about how good In and Out sounds. You are forced to go rogue and face the haggard’s’ treachery head on.

Treachery behind those smiles

During my last encounter I was ten minutes into a delightful yell-off at a club with a Hawaiian treat when it happened.

“Where are you from?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Why do you dance like that?”
“Do you come here often?”
“Isn’t this place so random?”

Fuck off! Back you haggards! Back I say. But there magic was strong. Dances were interrupted, bathroom breaks were taken, whispering sessions were had and one was bold enough to back up her formidable and unshapely rump on my increasingly flaccid long sword. The night ended with quesadillas and light creeping on the book, not quite how I drew up the battle plan.

Their attractive friend is in the middle somewhere. So tough.

So congratulations haggards on another battle well fought. You saved your friend for another night, from what I’m not sure. Nobody wins in this situation, unless you count grinding your sweaty back against me for the entirety to “Make it Nasty.” Are you really hoping I will make an egregious error in judgment and choose/jump/fall on you over a Hawaiian treat? This is not college, my nocturnal tastes are too discerning. I know we will continue to meet in battle, but it is my wish and great hope that one day I will approach the gates and not have to draw my sword in such haste. That I will be shown respect for my courage and wished well on my arduous journey that lies ahead. Until we meet again…

– Another Fallen Hero

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