Gay Bar History

I spent part of today reading up on the history of gay bars.  The worst thing about reading this kind of stuff is how much it makes me want to actually go to some of these places.
I really want to check out The Atlantic House, even though I can't imagine a reason why I would ever be in Massachusetts.  It sounds like a really fascinating history: it's existed since the 18th century and it was a regular haunt of artists like Tennessee Williams, Eugene O'Neill and Andy Warhol.  
(As a sidenote: will I know that I have made it as a writer when people are aware of where my regular haunt is?  And is it a problem I don't currently have one?)
One of the worst things about reading this article is I found myself thinking about how much I would love an excuse to go to these places.  
And as a last note: How disappointing is it to hear The Double Header isn't much of a gay bar anymore? 

The Bar Crawl, part 2

Near the end of the night, I ended up at a bar I was familiar with.  I sat with Carrie, Jonathan, Zack and Erin, who had found her way to us.  It was nice to sit and chat and steal food from Erin, who had made the mistake of ordering curly fries and saying we were welcome to have some. 
A professor I knew was in the bar at the same time, and he came over to say hi.  I think he might have been there with some other students.  (He was sort of holding court with them.) 
As I was leaving, I was having trouble putting on my coat, as I could find the arm hole.  When I finally put it on, I heard a ripping sound, but didn't really think anything of it. 
Carrie was nice enough to walk me back part of the way.  It was colder than I thought it should be, especially for this time of the year.  I shivered and regretted not bringing a warmer coat. 
Carrie and I parted way at a street light, her going on to her house and I turning so I could go back home.
When I got home, I was disheartened to see my coat had ripped in the back.  It had ripped along the seam, so it was fixable, but I was still annoyed.  I love this coat and how I look in it, and I don't really have anything else good to wear right now.  The only positive thing I could think of was that I hadn't paid much for it. 

The Bar Crawl

I decided to go on this bar crawl, which was my very first ever.  I was a little reluctant to go, because I wasn't sure who I would talk to and I find myself trying hard to not make a bother of myself.
I had dinner first with a group of girls, some of whom I had taken classes.  I even got a few hugs.  One of the girls sitting next to me had won a study-abroad scholarship and was going to Spain in the fall. 
Then we went to this massive bar that was clearly meant for the frat boy set.  At that point, I had found Carrie, and we walked in together with the larger group.
I guess like everyone was on a bar crawl, because pretty much everyone had on some shirt or another that indicated they were.  Even though it was only six in the evening, the inside was about seventy percent full, everyone crowded around the bar.  I decided not to get a drink because I hate pushing through crowds and waiting.
Instead, I went outside, and I was almost immediately greeted by someone really drunk.  He wasn't mean or anything, he just got right up into my face and then when he spoke to me, he smelled of alcohol.  He was very friendly. 
His friend, who appeared to be babysitting, put in a preliminary apology.  I told him it wasn't a big deal. 
Drunk boy, on the other hand, was sort of lazily dancing (there wasn't any music.)  He handed me a flask, and just seeing it made me smile.  I know people carry flasks, but there's something so old school, so cowboy, so bad boy in a film noir about it that I just always want to ask people "Seriously?  You have one of these?  Do you enjoy being a cliche?" 
He wanted me to take a drink.  I'm almost always up for a free drink, so I took a sip.  Drunk boy clapped.  I have no idea what it was, but how strong could it be, as it didn't burn.  Maybe really watered down vodka, because I couldn't taste much either. 
I talked to Carrie, and later Jonathan and Zack, who had come in after her.  There was talk of eventually finding Erin, who was her usual MIA.  (When are people going to show up on time for things?)  I asked Jonathan if he was going back to France, because he loves the French language and because one of my old classmates had gone there to teach for a year.
"Where's Erin?" I asked.
"Who knows," said Carrie.  She got out her phone and started texting.  "She said she was going to come."
That's what Erin had told me.  I had specifically asked her if she was going because things were always more entertaining when she was involved. 
After hanging out for a half an hour, we decided to move on to the next place, an Irish pub, one I had passed by but had never gone into before.  As we walked over there, I happened to turn around to look back.  Up against the wall of the bar we had just been in stood drunk Guy, his back to the wall, his babysitter, and another young man.  It looked like the babysitter and the other one were attempting to put drunk Guy's teeth back into his mouth.  I had just enough time to wonder what was going on. 
At the pub, they took us in a large side room which was obviously meant to hold the college crowd.  It was relatively quiet when we walked in, but it seemed to get steadily more crowded and louder.  Here, I walked up to the bar and bought myself an amaretto sour.  I only had twenties, and I had been in bars where paying for twenties and gotten me glares, so I apologized right off the bat. 
"No worries," the bartender said as he got me change.  As I waited, I noticed how wet the actual bar was.  It was basically soaked. 
Drink in hand, I headed over to a group of friends, Carrie and Jonathan, plus a couple of other people I recognized but couldn't remember the names of.
Eventually, a redhead wandered over to us.  Again, I remembered her because we had a conversation about virginity at one point last year, but I just could not remember her name.  She was younger than everyone else, so she couldn't drink, but had come along.  Possibly because she had designed the t-shirt. 
"Can I stick around with you?" she said.
"Sure."  I got the feeling that maybe she was like me, a little out of her depth. 
I ran into Maddie, and it was good to see her.  She had changed her hair cut but it was still its normal black and she looked really good.  We had a class together once.  I asked her what she was up to and she said she was working at a community center, and I marveled at how much the people in this group were doing things to really help the world, and I mean that genuinely.  Pretty much everyone was working for organizations like the Red Cross, or a food bank, or with immigrants, or raising money for public television or at halfway homes.  I have a lot of friends whose work centers around them saving money for massive corporations and making lots of money for themselves, but these friends and old colleagues were actually helping people.  
"How goes the poetry writing?" I asked. 
"Oh, I don't have any time for poetry or art these days because I'm so busy!" she said, half yelling because the room was pretty loud. 
That's actual too bad, because she was a decent poet, and I remember thinking she had interesting life experiences to draw from.  And now, given her work, she'll probably have even more interesting things to say. 

The Night of Ring Day

Dinner tonight was quiet.  Ruth is gone and Elizabeth didn't show up, so it was sort of a smaller group than usual.  Jenny talked a bit about her first hangover and Claire and her struck up a conversation talking about Scottish slang. 
Preadad came over to sit with us again tonight.  I really don't like her, and I wish, honestly, she wouldn't talk to me, because I hate making the effort to be nice to her.  It sounds terrible, but I sort of like it when I and someone else decide we don't like each other, and since there aren't many circumstances in which we have to talk to one other, we simply avoid each other, and thus avoid confrontation.  I especially like this because it allows me to avoid trying to be better natured than I truly am. 
It was all big news that we were going out tonight to celebrate Rachel getting a new job.  I found myself wondering how much I should put into my appearance.  I really don't want to make an effort tonight, and honestly if this wasn't for Rachel, I wouldn't go out at all and just stay in and watch a movie. 
Nina asked me to buy toilet paper, and since I was running low on shampoo, in between dinner and going out I went to get some.  Pharmacies around here are shabby, and this one was no different, with the computer freezing up as I tried to check out. 
I finally got home, and put on the lightest bit of makeup, and then went downstairs.  On the way down, I ran into Mimi.  She gave me this strange speech about when one should press the button on the elevator.  "Wait five seconds before you press it." 
"Okay," I said.  I continued saying that, even though she didn't really wait for me to confirm I was listening, just talked about how you have to wait, counting it out for me in demonstration.  It's not as if it matters: the door closes when it is ready to; pressing the button at one second or another doesn't make a difference; you still end up at the same place at the same time.  But everyone sort of humors Mimi because she seems to be at least a little bit mad. 
Downstairs we had a ring day celebration.  This is some strange game Elizabeth made up to celebrate achievements of various kinds.  The last time was for Rebecca, and for whatever reason I missed it.  (Had I gone out that even with Mikey?  I can't recall.)  Anyway, this was my first ring day, so I didn't know exactly what to expect, though Elizabeth had explained it to me once. 
Basically, Elizabeth brought this giant hula hoop, covered with ribbons, and she told Rachel she had to walk through it.  Several people took pictures as Rachel crawled through in in slow motion.  (She even said the word "slow motion" as slowly as possible.) 
Then Elizabeth gave Rachel this ring, which I was really surprised to say looked really nice.  It was sort of knot set with green stones.  Then everyone had to twist the ring around Rachel's ring going towards the pinkie finger.  "Don't go the other way or she'll be a nun," Elizabeth insisted.  I honestly don't know if that's true or not, but I really don't know much about how nuns are made other than to say they are married to God and whatnot. 
There were other people sort of milling about and you could tell they thought we were barking mad, and they were sort of laughing at our escapades.  I hate to say it, but adults are always making up little games, even if they don't talk about it.  (Especially if they don't talk about.) 
Lola was there, and I was sort of surprised to see her.  I don't remember her being as pretty as she was today.  Maybe I am appreciating her now that I don't see her on a regular basis and she doesn't have a chance to annoy me twice a day. 
We went out to the bar then.  When we got there, we had a bit of trouble.  The woman wouldn't let us sit down at a table.  The girls prefer this bar because they let us sit down.  I realized if we were here an hour later it probably wouldn't be a problem. 
Amanda made the comment that "the customer is always right," and that service jobs are all about giving people what they want.  She's right, of course, but it is one of the things that I am not good at, even when I remind myself.  I am just naturally not inclined towards other people. 
I think what was sort of irritating was that Rachel had actually made reservations before hand, and they were giving her trouble now. 
After a bit of trouble, they let us sit down.  I tried to be super gracious.  I'd been to this bar before and I had never seen the young woman in question, which makes me wonder if she is new. 
We had the same waiter we had a couple of weeks ago when I went out with the girls.  A bunch of them ordered margaritas.  I noticed a listening for a spiked Arnold Palmer, so I ordered that. 
It was horrible.  Like, really rank.  I actually have not been impressed by this place in terms of drinks.  Long Island Ice Teas and Captain and Cokes are also really bad at this place.  And I'm not a fan of margaritas. 
Meanwhile, I chatted with the girls.  Lola sat on the other side of the table, so I didn't really mind her at all tonight.  I sat with Jenny and Claire.  Jenny and I complained a lot about various mutual enemies.  We sort of filled Claire in on how Jenny has become Mimi's friend, though Jenny really hates her.  Everyone enjoyed my story of the latest run-in with Mimi on the elevator.
Jenny also knew somethings about Mimi I didn't.  According to Jenny, Mimi has four sisters, and all of them are married and normal.  Mimi was apparently showing Jenny a family album and she had all these pictures of her nephews and nieces, and none of them were smiling in any of them. 
"That's because they were with Mimi," Jenny explained.   

Saturdays in the Fall

I collapsed into Jimmy's arms.  It had been a while since I had a hug.
Someone observed to me a few weeks ago that Saturdays in the Fall are basically always holidays.  And today it certainly felt like it.  We were all going to watch football and hang out and have a good time.  Even my sister was in town.  She had asked me (me!) for advice on alcohol, so I got her some peach schnapps and orange juice and told her she was going to love Fuzzy Navels.  Most women do. 
The hallway flooded with various young'uns who were going to the game.  They were dressed in their gear, and I got hugs from people I knew, all surprised to see me there.  I met several of the new freshmen, one of whom is super proud of his Polish heritage.  Man.  Freshmen just keep getting younger and younger.    
Paul, Jimmy, Kristina, Dan and I all sat in Jimmy's room, chatting it up.  Apparently some of the freshmen girls decided to decorate people's doors with silly nicknames.  For example, they're calling Jeff Diesel now, which just weirds me out, because I went to high school with a boy nicknamed Diesel and I hated him.
The nickname thing brings up how I have lots of nicknames for certain friends.  I told everyone the story of how, over the summer, I had decided my superhero persona was The Giver, because I gave people nicknames.  And then I told Jimmy he should be my sidekick, Sensitive Man, because then he could tell me if my nicknames were insensitive or not. 
"And then," I said, finishing up my story "Jimmy goes 'Will you still call me Juicebox?'" Everyone laughed. 
"You know how you call me Honey?" I asked Dan. 
"Oh, I'm sorry.  Everyone in my family does that.  We call each other all of those names."
"Oh no, I'm not angry about it.  I was just going to tell you that I like it when you call me Honey.  It sounds nice in your voice." 
And then the conversation shifted to something else, and I never got a chance to tell Dan that I had been working on a nickname for him, and I was thinking about calling him Dan Nobilissimus.  It is Latin for most noble, and when I had been reading about it, it had kind of struck me as an appropriate faux title for him.  I had considered going with Christianissimus (Most Christian) after reading about the title for Kings of France, but decided that I'm unclear about Dan's religious beliefs, something more secular was in order. 
We decided to go out to one of the bars, so after getting all dressed in appropriate wear, we headed out.  (Nate had given me the key to his room by "accidentally" losing it in Paul's room.)  Being a pseudo-holiday, everything was in full swing.  Walking along, I was so excited and happy.  We stopped for a little while to hear the band play some songs.  I danced a little. 
We ran into Justin and talked briefly.  He looks great, as always.  I can't believe how adult and grown up he is. 
As we walked along, I even spotted one of my TAs from four years ago.  We greeted each other. 
We went really early to the bar because we were afraid of getting seats, but we waited less than five minutes for a hightop table.  The one lone guy standing there looked completely out of it, and his buddy came over and yelled at him.  (Something about a cell phone, it was hard to hear.)  And then they left, which of course means a woman came over and sat a large glass of beer in front of me. 
"Should I drink it?" I asked everyone.  Everyone voted no. 
We had a nice time.  I scared everyone right off the bat by drinking two shots of whiskey in a row.  And then following it with a Long Island Ice Tea. 
Being as I am a fan of Long Island Ice Teas, I have them a lot, and they are not all equal.  This particular bar had ones that made me happy, so I knew I wanted to have one.  Paul ordered one too, and I thought for a moment about how this was the bar where I first turned Paul on to these.  I know just about nothing about alcohol, so it's strange that anyone would take my advice on the subject. 
We watched the first half of the game there.  There was a lot of excitement and cheering.  I nearly hit a waitress in the face when I threw my arms out.
We had planned to leave at halftime and walk home, but Paul left early.  Paul's sometimes does that, and I didn't think anything of it.  I just enjoyed my wings, fries, and Red Headed Slut.  I've had really good Red Headed Sluts, but this one was terrible.
We did leave home at halftime.  I paid about twenty four dollars for four alcoholic drinks, pop, wings, and fries, which is by far the best I've done at a bar before.  This was gloriously good.
Meanwhile, behind us, several guys were hanging out.  They were drinking, but they weren't drunk.  One of the guys was getting his friends to slap him across the face.  When this group of guys saw that we were about to leave, they asked for our table, and we happily gave it to them.  After all, that's how we had gotten the table and I'm a big believer in East Lansing manners.
As we were about to leave, I turned to the guy who was taking slaps.  "Can I slap you?" I asked. 
"Sure!"
I pulled back and whack! right on his left cheek.  I aimed it perfectly, my fingers just hitting the area above his beard, getting my upper palm right on the thickest part of his face.  It pleasantly stung my hand.  Dan, Jimmy and Kristina looked at me like I was crazy.