ADVenTures in GAYland

Having rung in the new year solo and gotten as whoppingly blotto (see last post) as it is possible to get on bad dry-sparkling-white-Spanish-wine, (I'm still afraid to call a wine from any other region other than Champagne by that hallowed word- I'm certain there's some sort of French hex involved there) I journeyed out Saturday night with a merry band of gay male friends. Now, this was more in an effort to prove to myself that I'm not a pathetic, unsociable recluse, nor was I in a good deal of danger of becoming one. No dears... (uh, sorry Reader) dear. I do have friends. Never mind that they are all overwhelmingly homosexual and of the male persuasion. Just think of me as a superior variety of fag-hag. In any event, I was duly picked up and hustled across the bridge to our first stop- the midtown aerie of an painter who'd opened up his home that holiday night. As I walked in, I felt myself being universally checked out- one of only three chicks in a roomful of guys- from hair to boots. I later received the stamp of approval from several quarters: thumbs up, winks, "Girl, you look GOOD!" I breathed a sigh of relief, as I imagined the alternative- a roomful of hostile queens hatin' on my gear. Shudder.
An hour or so later we sped back into BK for soiree two, an underground gay male club. You wouldn't believe the line, in the freezing cold, to get in. Inside, I went, "Uh-Oh, this is like the worst nightmare of Oprah and her well-dressed middle American audience". Reams of black men, packed shoulder to shoulder, good-looking, built, corporate, husband-material, all out for one thing: dick. I want to believe, as I surveyed that crowd, that more than a few of these men had girlfriends or wives at home, who believed they were out with the fellas, or in the commanding way of black men over black womenfolk, were left in the dark, forbidden to ask any questions at all. I looked at one really regular looking dude leaning against a wall, hoochie looking dark-skinned boy grinding in front of him, and just mentally shook my head.
Anyway, I really did have a good time, despite my initial reservations. The music was poppin', the company was genial, the drinks were well-mixed. The only deal-breaker was the guy who claimed to have accompanied his college-aged son to the 2nd bar, and claimed to only like female company. And therefore hit on my ass until I decided "enough" and left my buddies, walking home in the clear crisp cold.