One Year of Gay Bars

Coming out of the closet in your mid 30s is a bit like watching the end of Steven Universe and then looking back at the previous seasons - all the signs were there - some more blatant than others - you just didn't notice them at the time. Unfortunatly for me this meant a lot of lost time and not a lot of time to sit around and mope about it, even though I did. I realized I had to get out on a regular basis and be around other homos, as a homo and not a "respectful ally" alongside one of my more out queer friends. 

My regrets about lost time felt, and still feel, like if I were to totally engage with them I would be overwhelmed and not do anything. Sort of like target fixation - if you look at the thing you're trying to avoid you'll run into the thing. So during this transitional time I was just going to kind of Show Up - but I was really worried about what it meant to be a total baby at this kind of thing. I was not fitting the definition of a gay man and I was terribly late to the party. Were other gays going to make fun of me for not being ripped? Or dressed well? Probably. I didn't have time anymore to care.

It took a few months of sitting with my new identity, feeling like I had the worst gaydar of all time, before I felt like going on a random Saturday evening with a friend of mine, now my partner. I asked them to take me. I couldn't go alone. I didn't want to go alone.

I picked Seattle's Pony as my first bar, since I had been in there before and it fit my general Dirtbag Millenial vibe I had spent the last decade cultivating. Pony is a former gas station, a wooden triangle of a building flanked by leering steel towers and kitty corner to a Ferrari dealership. It feels like a physical manifestation of a margin. A nail house of a place. The walls are all covered in pornography, and any other surface is covered in grafitti. That night there was a pole dancer performing on the bar, it was pretty crammed, the DJ started playing Edward Birdsong's "Cola Bottle Baby" and I instantly recognized it. I met a friend there. It was just another Saturday night for everyone else, but for me it felt like finally arriving. 

I have always felt more comfortable in dive bars because the lack of pretense and expectations. Seattle has some very good dive bars including: Bar House, The Streamliner, Add A Ball. I didn't think it'd be possible to feel more comfortable in a gay bar, but I never really had been in a physical place to exist as myself. 

I started going to Pony on Tuesdays for Karaoke night. CC's on the Fourth Friday of every month for Furry night. 2024 was an interesting year for these businesses, there was a police raid on several of them in one night - with cops taking photos of some patrons - someone had a lewd conduct complaint or something. The outrage got Seattle to drop enforcement of lewd conduct laws, and what this meant was...things got very interesting some nights. Before I didn't think about taking my shirt off around other people and now I was looking at harnesses and masks thinking about putting a look together. 

CC's is a fair bit cleaner than Pony, instead of pornography on the walls they have monitors around the establishment with a slideshow of...photos. Unlike Pony there's a lot of nooks and crannies to disappear into and find people in. CC's has theme nights like...leather, or underwear, or furries. They have a clothing check which has been a great way to store my helmet and motorcycle jacket. my one complaint is that I have one flimsy stop sign to lock my bike to, but it's within direct eyesight of the bouncer - so it's less likley to get stolen. 

My fast paced lifestyle started catching up to me. I was burned out from work, then I got laid off, then I moved, then all my bikes broke and I become a homebody. Hopefully I come out of hibernation. Being gay is incredibly fun, as it turns out. Beyond all the pain and suffering is this incredible joy.