![]() ![]() Where straight people have systemic heteronormativity and The Notebook to turn to, we have diverse clubs where it's basically a law to play impeccable pop music.īut not everybody wants to slut drop to Madonna every evening, and despite how much of LGBTQ herstory is indebted to bars and clubs, I know how exhausting and monotonous the late nights, overpriced drinks, and gross bar bathrooms can be. And as we get older, gay clubs can become our sanctuaries, our safe spaces. As little gay boys, many of our first flirtations with the scene were surreptitious visits to bars where we'd drink cheap beer, underage, and get shit-scared the minute that someone spared a prolonged glance in our direction. If this nightmare sounds familiar to you, it might be because it's what actually happens to me almost every Saturday night whenever I go out on the gay scene.ĭon't get me wrong: The gay scene can offer the occasional magical and informative experience. When I finally manage to claim my spot at the bar and snag a vodka soda (which costs $15, mind you), I find I have no cash. I'm also wearing a coat, and because of said coat-that for some reason I haven't taken off-I am sweating profusely while all around me, shirtless, muscle-y men are pushing to get to the front to order. and I'm queueing at a busy gay bar to buy a drink. Let me tell you about a recurring nightmare I have: It's 1 A.M.
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