The only other gay guy at my friend's birthday party last night and I had fun talking, drinking and making snarky comments. There were about 26 of us in this group, and with the exception of my new Gay Comrade, everyone else was straight or a lesbian and coupled.
Also, apparently no one (including Gay Comrade) had never heard of Grolsche beer (is it really that obscure?) which forced me to repeatedly answer the question "what the fuck are you drinking?"
Anyways, around 12:15AM people were drunk and the party was slowly dissapating. At one point, the birthday girl (totally drunk at this point - she was in fine awesome form - I love her) grabbed both Gay Comrade and Myself and proclaimed that "us homos" should hit up Boystown together, with the intention of being each other's wing men. She didn't mean that very night, but we looked at each other, shrugged and said "why the fuck not"?
Off to Boystown!
Since we both drove to the birthday party, this meant that we both needed to find parking, which under the best of circumstances is not easy, and 12:3-ish AM on a Saturday is about the worst time to try to find parking.
That being said, we managed to accomplish our goal (us homos are a clever sort) and we walked on over to Sidetrack, arriving around 1AM. It was odd to drop our coats off at the coat check when everyone else was picking theirs up, but whatever.
Anyways, we got drinks, which are always strong as hell in this place, and made our rounds to checkout the boys, and in the case of Gay Comrade, hide from one or two ex's (I guess I make a good decoy).
As usual I saw several guys from my gym, none of whom I am attracted to nor compelled to speak to otherwise. This the point when the booze began to take effect and I started wondering if I come off as "standoff-ish", and at least now I think that I do. Dunno.
I've never really felt comfortable in the Boystown bars, and Gay Comrade said much the same. The usual assortment of pretty boys, of which there were many, does little for me. I'm not sure why, but I think it has something to do with what I think is a fact, which is, no one Super Fucking Hot can also be interesting.
I realize this is probably not the case, and something that I need to change within my own mind. Still, I have a hard time going up to and talking to someone simply because I think they are hot. Is that shallow, or the opposite of being shallow? I don't know.
What I did know is that we both needed another round. While waiting for the bartender, I noticed a very cute guy circling near us, one whom I had my eye on for much of the night. The bartender, after finishing making out with a patron (really) came to serve us and said "so girls, what'll it be?" while playfully batting his eyes in my general direction (tip whore).
We got our drinks and I look to my left, past Gay Comrade to see the Cute Guy I Had My Eye On. [for reference purposes, he was short, had dark, closely cropped hair, skater jeans/shoes and slight, though brooding features]
Gay Comrade: (whispering probably too loud not to be overheard) "Switch places with me Justin, talk to him!"
Me: "OK, but I have to be smooth about it"
My idea of being "smooth about it" took the form of me walking away and checking my phone (I notice I do this when I am nervous) and walk back to insert myself between Cute Guy I Had My Eye On and Gay Comrade.
This immediately failed as Cute Guy turned his back and walked off to talk to what I think was a friend of his.
And so it goes...
Again and again we walked around, drank, made bitchy comments and eventually a sense of malaise set in. I think what really did it, was at one point I pointed out this gorgeous Abercrombie-type guy.
When we looked back at him a moment later he made making out with what looked like a 14 year old girl, which was actually a guy, probably 18, but definately not 21 or older. Creepy. Gross. Disturbing. Confusing.
At this point I said aloud "what the fuck am I doing here?", a question which still lingers in my mind.
Really, what did I think this would accomplish? Nothing in terms of "Romance" for sure, and I was NOT looking to bring some random stranger home for sex. Perhaps it was just fun to pal around with another gay guy, an activity in which I rarely am able to engage in.
That being said, I don't think I'll be going back to Boystown any time soon. Keep in mind, I am not putting down anyone who enjoys hanging out there. But for me, it reminds me of high school, in that I feel awkward and out of place. And I sincerely doubt I will ever find anyone to date in such an environment.
The night was summed up when Gay Comrade and I were leaving and walking down Roscoe Street. There was a large group and drunk, gay dudes behind us, put one member of the group, a skinny white guy briskly walked past us, smoking really quickly (puffpuffpuff-style).
He turned to us and said something to the effect of:
Thank you, kind, homosexual Meth-head, but it's late...
Also, apparently no one (including Gay Comrade) had never heard of Grolsche beer (is it really that obscure?) which forced me to repeatedly answer the question "what the fuck are you drinking?"
Anyways, around 12:15AM people were drunk and the party was slowly dissapating. At one point, the birthday girl (totally drunk at this point - she was in fine awesome form - I love her) grabbed both Gay Comrade and Myself and proclaimed that "us homos" should hit up Boystown together, with the intention of being each other's wing men. She didn't mean that very night, but we looked at each other, shrugged and said "why the fuck not"?
Off to Boystown!
Since we both drove to the birthday party, this meant that we both needed to find parking, which under the best of circumstances is not easy, and 12:3-ish AM on a Saturday is about the worst time to try to find parking.
That being said, we managed to accomplish our goal (us homos are a clever sort) and we walked on over to Sidetrack, arriving around 1AM. It was odd to drop our coats off at the coat check when everyone else was picking theirs up, but whatever.
Anyways, we got drinks, which are always strong as hell in this place, and made our rounds to checkout the boys, and in the case of Gay Comrade, hide from one or two ex's (I guess I make a good decoy).
As usual I saw several guys from my gym, none of whom I am attracted to nor compelled to speak to otherwise. This the point when the booze began to take effect and I started wondering if I come off as "standoff-ish", and at least now I think that I do. Dunno.
I've never really felt comfortable in the Boystown bars, and Gay Comrade said much the same. The usual assortment of pretty boys, of which there were many, does little for me. I'm not sure why, but I think it has something to do with what I think is a fact, which is, no one Super Fucking Hot can also be interesting.
I realize this is probably not the case, and something that I need to change within my own mind. Still, I have a hard time going up to and talking to someone simply because I think they are hot. Is that shallow, or the opposite of being shallow? I don't know.
What I did know is that we both needed another round. While waiting for the bartender, I noticed a very cute guy circling near us, one whom I had my eye on for much of the night. The bartender, after finishing making out with a patron (really) came to serve us and said "so girls, what'll it be?" while playfully batting his eyes in my general direction (tip whore).
We got our drinks and I look to my left, past Gay Comrade to see the Cute Guy I Had My Eye On. [for reference purposes, he was short, had dark, closely cropped hair, skater jeans/shoes and slight, though brooding features]
Gay Comrade: (whispering probably too loud not to be overheard) "Switch places with me Justin, talk to him!"
Me: "OK, but I have to be smooth about it"
My idea of being "smooth about it" took the form of me walking away and checking my phone (I notice I do this when I am nervous) and walk back to insert myself between Cute Guy I Had My Eye On and Gay Comrade.
This immediately failed as Cute Guy turned his back and walked off to talk to what I think was a friend of his.
And so it goes...
Again and again we walked around, drank, made bitchy comments and eventually a sense of malaise set in. I think what really did it, was at one point I pointed out this gorgeous Abercrombie-type guy.
When we looked back at him a moment later he made making out with what looked like a 14 year old girl, which was actually a guy, probably 18, but definately not 21 or older. Creepy. Gross. Disturbing. Confusing.
At this point I said aloud "what the fuck am I doing here?", a question which still lingers in my mind.
Really, what did I think this would accomplish? Nothing in terms of "Romance" for sure, and I was NOT looking to bring some random stranger home for sex. Perhaps it was just fun to pal around with another gay guy, an activity in which I rarely am able to engage in.
That being said, I don't think I'll be going back to Boystown any time soon. Keep in mind, I am not putting down anyone who enjoys hanging out there. But for me, it reminds me of high school, in that I feel awkward and out of place. And I sincerely doubt I will ever find anyone to date in such an environment.
The night was summed up when Gay Comrade and I were leaving and walking down Roscoe Street. There was a large group and drunk, gay dudes behind us, put one member of the group, a skinny white guy briskly walked past us, smoking really quickly (puffpuffpuff-style).
He turned to us and said something to the effect of:
"heyguyshowisitgoingdidyouhavefuntonightwhereareyougoing
youshouldgotothisafterparty
itwillbefunyouwanttogoitsrightoverthereanddidimentionitwillbefun"
youshouldgotothisafterparty
itwillbefunyouwanttogoitsrightoverthereanddidimentionitwillbefun"
Thank you, kind, homosexual Meth-head, but it's late...
10 comments:
"...no one Super Fucking Hot can also be interesting."
No truer statement ever made.
As for the Grolsche... Your fellow party guests need to get out more and expand their horizons... I always loved the stopper bottles.
"...made bitchy comments and eventually a sense of malaise set in."
That's a pretty much perfect description of every time I've ever been to a gay bar.
Grolsch is really our national beer. It's a little gassy for my taste, but not bad.
RE hot=shallow. You're right. Maybe not in general, but in such places, you definitely have it nailed.
I though everyone knew Grolsche bottles because of their funky clamp caps?
Bars/clubs, anywhere around the city, are what you make of them. B-town is certainly more fun with friends in tow. But Trax on a Saturday night is fairly tragic as you seem to have found.
Everyone else feels awkward and out of place too. They're just trying to hide it under their look-at-my-chest shirts and tight jeans. God forbid a room full of gay men relax and enjoy themselves instead of going on the prowl.
LOL.. oh gawd Sidetrash on a Saturday night. What were you thinking. You'll have more fun going on Sundays and listening to showtunes (I hope you know I'm kidding). I wish I would have met up with you. I ended up going to Scarlet than Roscoes.
Well you have to understand that kind of people...it must be a lot of work to make sure their hair and clothes are in the right place, and that they're sitting in the right position, so they don't look like they're fat or anything...How do you expect them to also put some kind of attention to what they're saying?
Who never heard of Grolsch?!?!?! I hope you schooled them on the amazement that is in those swing-top bottles.
there are some pretty hot bloggers and, from reading what they say, i think they'd be interesting. could this be a defense mechanism to prevent possible rejection?
good post justing, get out the violin cause I defintiely hear what you're talking about....you've described some OKC and dallas bars to a t. ha.
later
does this mean you're NOT super fucking hot or NOT interesting or a combination of both?
and how could you tell he was a meth head if you don't mind my asking?
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