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Cause and Effect
It was the Solstice last night, the longest day of the year, at least for the summer version. It mystifies some of us at the bar that the shortest day of the year (Hello, Buenos Ares!) should be exactly the same length of day as the one we share in the Northern climes. Our group of ladies, queers, older drunks and hangers-on hoping to be one or more of those laughed about it.
The bar is a special place. It is on the Right Side of the River, which is to say we used to have less crime than over on the Big City side of the water, which was good, unless of course you were violating a few of the less violent crimes, like smoking dope or dressing in clothing that could be subject to misinterpretation. And since we delight in that, the local authorities were a small but noticeable problem.
They had enforced a prohibition against public sodomy, which we sort of agreed with, unless it was conducted in the privacy of a sedan or truck. The prohibition on gay bars being permitted to operate was a direct violation of our rights, but it just caused us to act a little more restrained than we would on the other side of the river.
So, I stopped in last week. I wore the usual business attire, which I like to wear with just a hint of fashion flair. The decline in grooming standards with the Pandemic is a disappointment. I don't mind men with facial hair, but c'mon, guys. Be neat!
Some of the usual gang was there, too. Mostly the younger guys, which is how I would describe what I used to be. The older ones have lost some energy and partnered up in self-defense for the duration. How they did that was sort of interesting, since I did the same thing and marveled at being a suburban housewife in everything except the housecoat.
I should explain it. I was in a tizzy of serial dating and hookups and it was making me dizzy. I was at a nice reception related to one of the cultural groups I support (when I remember) and got into a long, intelligent conversation about arts and education with a distinguished man a few years my senior. It was a nice crowd, intruding on none of the sides I normally try to minimize in polite society. It wound up with a farewell kiss over a handshake, which is unusual in many of the setting in which I operate. And that started a thing that got serious enough to talk about marriage. With me getting to be the bride. It was exciting, and I found I was drawn to it, and the firm masculine way he treated me- and the way we wound up making love. He was all man, and liked me to stay neat and shaven. It wasn't the manscaping that did it, since I enjoyed it, felt comfortable with the updated look, and adored how he would take me when the mood hit him. The marriage thing was a problem. It would have blown down all the careful fences I had around aspects of my life, and the relationship fell apart after a couple years. My fault.
I wound up back at the club again. It was a tradeoff deal. It was a gay bar going full out not to look like a gay bar, filled with gay men who weren't pretending anything, some gay women- I don't know why they stopped calling themselves lesbians, and some of us more ambiguous types who balanced the idea that what we are is a little more balanced in approach. Which is to say if my chromosomes were just a little different, I could be a cis-gender, queer or trans all in the same happy hour.
That is what it came down to last week. Jimmy-Jennifer was hanging at the Amen Corner in that club, the place where the long bar ends and takes the short leg back to the wall. It gives her a chance to survey the whole panoply of activity against the rest of the little tables and not have to be too alert to what was happening in the four stools that go to the wall.
Jennifer is sometimes Jimmy, a cute guy of indeterminate age who dressed well, crisp shirts, colorful ties, nicely polished footwear and suits with just a little flair in cut. He was very much a bottom, and that is where our friendship started one evening with a vigorous discussion about the lack of vibrant males in the club that evening.
The discussion was sparked by a young man. No surprise there, but this one had requested an old Billy Idol song from the playlist, and then proceeded to dance with himself on the little square of parquet floor where he could look in the mirror. He was cute but looked a little too concentrated on whatever statement he thought he was making.
Jimmy looked over at me and said "You shouldn't just dance the songs of your life. You should have them come right inside you."
