« My life has been enriched | Main | Say what you mean! »
May 28, 2006
A gay old weekend
This has been one of the strangest weekends of my life. It started off simple enough: Christy and I went to get dinner at Take 5, a place where everything on the menu is $5. Cool! About a half hour and a few pints of liquid courage later, and with the estimable Tim Quigg joining us, we decided to go into uncharted territory: El Gato Negro (The Black Cat!), a divish looking bar that we had seen several times. As would soon become apparent, that was a mistake.
We stepped in to the bar, and were greeted with a smashing wave of accordion music: the place had the loudest jukebox on Earth, and it was blasting Mexican pop music. The bar was nearly empty, save for a few people shooting pool and a man in the corner, kept company by his bottle of Negro Modelo. But as we got closer to the other patrons, a sick sensation overtook us: they were all transvestites! Yes, El Gato Negro is a transvestite gay bar. Personally, I was amused. Our "waitress" was most certainly a dude, and Christy became upset when she thought the server was flirting with her. However, I was not ready to abandon the place until we ordered three beers and were charged $17 for them. That seemed a bit high, leading Quigg to posit we were charged some sort of "straight gringo rate." Then, the five men sitting at the bar walked to the stage, loaded up some electric guitars, drums and a sax, and started playing more Mexican pop. So now, without the band, it was the three of us, the lonely guy in the corner, and a growing number of drag queens. We then beat a hasty retreat - but only after finishing our $17 beers.
With that bit of strangeness behind us, today Christy and I got up at the veritable crack of dawn (7 am) and did Bike The Drive. Riding a bike up and down Lake Shore Drive is truly a great experience, but did anyone have any idea the road was so hilly? Nor did I! After a relentless spate of hills drained all our energy (and chaffed various body parts), we finished our 15 miles of riding and sought breakfast. I had eaten breakfast at a particular restaurant a few times when I was in school, and so I decided we ought to go there.
As would soon become apparent, this was another mistake. In the restaurant, we noticed that a disproportionate number of the patrons were men dressed in leather pants and motorcycle outfits. We had no idea why. We figured we had come upon some sort of gay motorcycle club, because everybody seemed to know each other. And really, if you were in a motorcycle club, wouldn't you want to get some brekkie after a nice ride? Furthermore, much to my embarassment, this must be their hangout. Of course! So we watched the patrons coming in and out, as we grew progressively more mystified. Some people started to come in wearing t-shirts that strongly hinted they might be gay. Some of them were also wearing tags attached by lanyards, leading us to next theorize that there was some sort of gay motorcycle convention going on.
After a delightful breakfast of eggs, pancakes and toast, we left the restaurant to head home. Next door was the Palmer House Hilton, and still more chap-clad men were spilling out of the hotel. Finally I said, enough is enough, I am finding out what is going on.
I walked into the hotel, and I will never forget what I saw next. Leather galore. A man in a full Cub Scout uniform. Techno music at 11 am. I had to know what this was. I went to the front desk, and I asked what in the world was going on here? You never would have guessed it: The International Mr. Leather convention was being held right in our fair city! Who even knew there was such a thing? I left, horrified, and sent Christy in to take a gander. She also returned horrified.
After this weekend, I am starting to fear that I have some sort of reverse gay-dar. To suddenly and unintentionally immerse myself in two of the stranger gay subcultures twice in one weekend makes me nervous. I mean, sure, we've all accidentally gone to a gay bar once or twice in our lives - and let me make it clear that gay people don't freak me out, but people spackling themselves in leather and dressing like women does - but this was just too much. I simply do not know what to say about this! Does this mean I have to stick to White Castle and a six-pack of Old Style from now on or something?
Posted by oz115 at May 28, 2006 01:06 PM
Comments
Sorry about the leather convention... That's frightening.
I'm jealous that you got to go to El Gato Negro. I drove past that place exactly 127 times in the 18 months I've been dating katy, and always wanted to go in, but never seemed to be heading that way. Now that I know what it is, I'm even more curious to peek inside.
Posted by: G at May 29, 2006 03:44 PM