Tomorrow one of my best friends in the world is arriving for ten days of madness. It’s been just under seven years sine we last saw each other live, but – with a small exception the first few years – we’ve kept in touch regularly since then via Skype and various iPhone apps. Our regular contact means that despite the distance between us he still knows a lot about what is going on in my life and vice versa, and I can still talk to him with ease about everything.
I’ve been looking forward to this for quite some time now, as we always have crazy adventures and awesome discussions, but there is one thing that I’m hesitant about: going out with him to gay bars.
He was around back in the day when I grudgingly went along with friends to the gay bars—in fact his then best friend was dating my then best friend, which was how we met in the first place. So he knows all about that not being my scene. But I also know that it’s his scene, so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and go.
Gay bars have always made me uncomfortable, and I’m hard-pressed to tell you why. But it’s been years since I was last in one. I can count on one hand the number of them that I’ve been in since I finished university six-and-a-half years ago. So this will actually be a good opportunity to have a look around and see what it was that bothered me—I’ll at least have more objectivity about the experience than I would if I frequented gay bars on a regular basis.
It amuses me that all it takes to get myself to do some benign thing that I’d rather not do is to transform myself into my own personal guinea pig and turn the whole thing into an experiment/game.
Anyway, I can’t wait to pick him up from the airport tomorrow and let the good times roll. And I’ll definitely report back on the gay bar.