Tuesday, January 10, 2006

I Wanna Take You To a Gay Bar! Gay Bar!

Last night I went with Kai (or, Jolene, as she prefers to be called when signing guestbooks, making reservations, or giving her name to anyone who doesn't already know it) to get pizza, drink coffee, and watch drag queen/Rosemary's baby Amnesia Sparkles perform at XES. Kai had never seen a drag show before, but this was an excellent introduction that covered all of the required drag bases: frumpy to slutty costume change; Cher; a "Seasons of Love" singalong; penis jokes; boob adjustment; "Toxic." Amnesia, if I must say, which I do, even if it's a bad pun, and one that required thirteen dependent clauses, sparkled.

While we were sitting at the bar watching videos and waiting for the show to start, Kai asked if it's weird to spend virtually all of my evenings out in gay establishments. "I mean, there's like no opportunity to meet a guy, ever," she pointed out. "Which must be kind of sad."

Yes, Jolene. Here is the salt. Here, also, is a lemon. Twist the knife first.

The way I see things, I'm chubby, I have big hair, and I am viscerally drawn to loud accessories. I am, also, judgmental and quippy. On a genetic level, I was born to be that girl at the gay bar. It's a fact that you can't reduce gay men to cultural stereotypes; personally, I know far more who defy them than conform to them. But let's not pretend you can't spot a girl who spends her weekends in gay clubs from, like, sixteen glittery miles away.

You can pick us out pretty early. Who went to see Rent instead of going to the prom? Check. You are going leave college knowing more about how to properly duct tape down a penis than how to do anything else with it.

Not that straight clubs are actually even fun. My (albeit limited) experience with them has been that I feel inadequate, guys hit on my friends by flashing their stomach tattoos, I get rip-roaring drunk in about thirteen seconds, slur inappropriate things to strangers, and occasionally punch my companions right in the face when they won't stop talking about their lame ex-girlfriends.

Alright, I'm lying. That last part was totally fun. The rest of it I could do without. Going to a straight club when you're chubby, have big hair, and are viscerally drawn to loud accessories is less like going out and more like being a Special Olympian. You're not winning any real medals, but it's good you got to dress up and get out there on the field.

Hugs!

At a gay club, though, I'm a spectator. Despite all the sports metaphor about having to be in the game to win, when the chances are nil that any "baskets" will be "sunk" by going to a straight bar, I'd rather go someplace where the music is good, the people are fun, and everybody knows your name.

Which is often Biological Girl, or Are you a lesbian?

Close enough.

4 Comments:

Anonymous anonymousmom said...

you're never going to find a decent in a bar anyways... may as well have some fun in clubs where people will dance till they're sweating like pigs to the best music and genuinely have a good time. i always liked the gay clubs better than the straight ones.

2:29 PM  
Anonymous meagain said...

decent man i meant to say.

my last word verification was dveeum. glad it wasn't dveeut

2:30 PM  
Anonymous stupidboy said...

Can't you go to your local indie type club whwre everyone's kinda... sexless? And that's the way it should be!

7:28 AM  
Blogger Buckley said...

Because of my large ego, I would describe myself as lythe, good-looking, and stylish. I also drink in so-called 'straight bars' on an all-too-frequent basis and in the 3 years or so I've been a single drinker, I've scored in a bar one time. Hardly a sizzling record - but this is pretty good relatively, as I know plenty of hot and hotter people who have worse pulling-in-bars records.

Incidentally, the reason I scored on this one occassion was that a pretty girl came to dance with me, and as I knew I wasn't going to impress her with my moves, I was drunk enough to think she might alternately be won over by some (uncharacteristic I hasten to add) sleaziness.

Well anyway, the point of my story is that people don't actually hook-up in bars all that much. But even putting that aside, the gay bars you go to are probably more fun than anything else out there anyway, so that'll probably always tip the balances.

Drinkin in Dublin is still great fun though. When are you coming over?

9:15 AM  

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