TIS THE SEASON TO BE GRATEFULFOR ALL
by angelica osborne
THINGS GAY! The holidays are upon us! It’s time to put away your slutty unicorn Halloween
costume and get out your slutty Pilgrim outfit! Ah Thanksgiving, a wonderful opportunity to think about the things we are
most grateful for! The love of family and friends, the blessings of freedom, Green Cross Herbal Clinics and of course gay bars! Oh my stars and garters, how I love hangin’ with my gays in bars! It is still way too much fun! The only problem these days? Finding any of my straight friends to go with me! See, I live an hour south of Los Angeles, which is where all my bestest homos are. I like to have someone with me to help drive—or even just to not be walking alone at night in the city—when I have to park way back in those lil’ dark neighborhoods. As I’ve aged it’s become harder and harder to find anyone to go with me. WTF? Here are the excuses I get: “It’s so far, why don’t we
generous bartenders, but the ambiance itself is intoxicating! Don’t have a duet partner for your fave Human League karaoke song, “Don’t you Want Me?” Just get on stage when it’s your turn and say, “Anybody know this song?” Trust me, you will have three guys tripping over each other to get to the mic! That is not to say that I don’t understand the importance of “Ladies Nights” and
just go out closer to home? “ Or “Let’s go to ‘Ladies Night’ for free drinks,” or “My boyfriend/hubby wants to go out with us, but he’s worried he’ll get hit on in a gay bar.” (Ha! He wishes... not in that pair of pleated jeans honey, he’s safe and aaaaall yours.) Or it’s a single woman and the only reason she goes out is for the never-ending d*ck hunt. Let me assure you all, there is always at least one “straight-pretending” man in a gay bar, looking for fruit flies just like me! The conversation will start something like this, “I’m not gay, I didn’t even know this was a gay bar!” This guy will hit on every gal in the bar… all three of us. My assumption he’s looking for a “beard,” or to try yet again to find a woman who’ll prove he’s not gay... while hanging out in a gay bar. Yeah that’s annoying, but there’s usually only one of them and he’s vastly outnumbered by fun-lovin’, cosmo-guzzlin,’ Dolly Parton-singin,’ beautiful gay men who know who they are and love to celebrate it! This is why I love to go… The dance floor is way more dancy, the drinks are
“Seriously, what’s not to love? I swear you get drunker at a gay bar, not only from the generous bartenders but the ambiance itself is intoxicating!”
free cocktails, that’s a given. But seriously, I can’t live without my best bitches! I find that I have just as many drinks (if not more) bought for me at gay bars as I do in straight ones and they all come without the bad pick up lines! Sometimes I just want the best of both worlds, ala’ Hannah Montana. I want the freedom of being myself combined with the exhilaration of being surrounded by beautiful men with impressive dance moves who smell like Tiffany’s for Men, with- out all the groping! Is that so much to ask? Geez. Go to any quintessential frat boy bar; you’ll come
out with an STD and that’s just from trying to get to the ladies room. Bunch of beer-bellied, machismo- soaked meatheads, wearing khaki shorts, a Corona t- shirt of some kind and a ratty baseball cap. No thanks.
stronger and so the pectorals are bigger and coming at me from every direction!! Seriously, what’s not to love? I swear you get drunker at a gay bar, not only from the
70 RAGE monthly | NOVEMBER 2013 | NOVEMBER 2013
I’m so thankful, so totally grateful for my gay bars! My oasis in the scorching sun, my safe sanctuary, a place where a gal gets props for having an eye-popping ensemble—not just leered at! I can talk about my favorite hair products, laugh at shared stories of our homo- phobic relatives, reenact some scenes fromAvenue Q and talk about sex in a way that would make your grandma cringe! While my single gal-pals are drowning in Old Spice-soaked lies and watching the sports channel, I’ll be on the dance floor in Boys Town singing at the top of my lungs to this old school tune by FatBoy Slim the DJ is turnin.’ Good luck with that. Tis the season to be grateful, and I am more than ever thankful for YOU! HAPPY HOLIDAYS—NOW BUY ME A DRINK, SAILOR!
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