No Straights, No Shirts, But Good Service
i’m not really into gay clubs/bars.
depending on the event,
i’m not into the straight ones either.
well that is unless i’m in VIP.
i don’t do “on the floor”; no j.lo.
last night a hybrid associate wanted me to come out.
he knew i was depressed so he wanted me to “remember” what fun the city was.
i thought we were going to a restaurant or something.
he wanted me to meet his new snow fox that he has been messing with for two months.
“you made me miss breaking bad and devious maids for this?” i asked, when i arrived downtown.
“he’ll pay for your food and dranks.”
“…okay so where we going.”
“a gay bar.”
i wanted to turn around…
…but i decided to stay and see where the night would lead.
i could have met someone.
if it wasn’t for my ( x google maps ),
we would still be looking for this bar.
when we finally arrived,
it was pretty packed with vanilla with sprinkles of chocolate.
the wolves that was behind the bar tho?
they had no shirts and had the nicest bodies ive seen up close in a while.
my horny meter rose a little.
more than likely they were straight and shirtless for tips.
in the crowd there were no “paul walkers” or “chace crawfords”.
a lot of “basic”,
the snow fox was very nice.
he was cute,
and fun sized.
i could see the appeal.
he works at a investment banking firm.
i think my hybrid is messing with him for the money,
but he doesn’t want to admit it.
as they talked,
i just observed the atmosphere.
it was really different playing in the snow.
one thing i noticed is the differences.
the black gays who were in there besides me and my friend: all queens.
they were voguing and twerking to every song that was playing.
the white gays were talking and playing pool.
many of them you couldn’t even tell.
some reminded me of the ones whose parents would faint if they knew.
the ones who moved to new york to be “themselves”.
come from good families with money.
don’t even get me started on the all the fag hags everywhere.
at least they weren’t like the black ones.
the snow bunnies actually were tame.
“are you bored?” the snow fox asked.
i wanted to say “hell yeah”.
there was no one in there that caught my eye.
it was cold as hell and i was tired of hearing katy perry and top 40.
i had three of my new found drank,
( x amaretto sour ),
and i was checking out the half nekkid bartenders.
my horny meter was on “hoe”.
the only people giving me the eye were the black queens.
i got a few head nods and even a “hey baby”.
that was my cue to bounce.
plus i wanted to leave before the train became local again.
being the that bar made me realized i don’t really fit in anywhere.
not in the gay bars or around the straights.
i’m just kinda “there”.
i’m not the type to jump on a table and start twerk,
not one to walk up to someone,
but i do like to have one and one conversations.
maybe the bar isn’t my scene?
something more intimate?
one that isn’t a sex party or glory hole.
so then i ask: