Tales from West Hollywood

This gay bar could've fooled any straight guy.

I watched the NBA playoff game last night exactly where you would expect me to watch it: At a gay bar in West Hollywood. Like a dumb rube, I didn’t realize it was a gay bar until long after convincing the bartender to change the channel from ‘E! True Hollywood Story: Angelina Jolie’ to basketball. I looked around the tidy establishment at all the men gathered in groups and thought to myself, “This is the nicest Elk’s Club I’ve ever been in!” In fairness, it wasn’t your stereotypical gay bar. It was kind of a gay saloon. And I was their fresh-off-the-bus Midnight Cowboy.

I watched basketball. They watched me watch basketball. I was a man’s man in this bar, which isn’t often the case as a straight guy sipping fruit-infused vodka drinks. There, I was alpha male just for drinking something without a slice of watermelon in it. Little did they know when I turned down my watermelon slice that I was secretly hoping for a pineapple chunk instead. You get what you are secure enough to ask for.

I chatted for hours with my new gay friends, Hector and Jason. And in doing so, I really loosened myself up for the co-ed portion of my evening. There are times for guy talk, and there are times for smooth talk, but most the time people like being spoken to like…people. Convoy mentioned something in our interview about doing their best work when they have the least agenda. That is very true of social interaction also.

Make no mistake, I could’ve boned Hector. He was all about The Kid. And the reason he liked me is because I was sans-agenda. I was just another dude on another stool, sipping a Seabreeze and giving it to him straight (no pun intended). Sexuality aside, we are all attracted to connection. Also, Hector has a thing for gruff-looking heterosexuals. But it was mostly the connection thing.

When I finally made my way over to the “straight action,” I was the confident version of myself. That guy who entrances you with his charm and appeal. And you know how many numbers I got? None. Turned down left and right. That damn gay bar made me cocky! And I’ve got to stop drinking pink beverages in public!

So I went back over to the gay bar and tried to hang with Hector, but he, correctly, didn’t want anything to do with me. Nothing reaks of desparation like a straight man begging at the gay bar. Whatever, Hector. I thought we made a connection.

My name is Ben and I blogged this ridiculousness.