How to survive a night at a gay bar

“Gay men are what straight men would act like if they didn’t want vagina.” — My homosexual friend Roo

First, let’s just get this out of the way: I’m straight.

That said, tonight several of my friends and I — half heteros and half homos — are going to a gay bar for what we have dubbed, simply, “Gay Night”. Or, as my gay friends call it, “Night”.

For some, going to a gay bar in DC can be a daunting and not altogether pleasant experience. But for my straight friends and I, it is always a fun and educational experience.

For one thing, you get to see your gay friends in their natural environment, like going to the panda exhibit at the National Zoo. That is, if all the pandas were grabbing each other’s cocks and ignoring Mei Xiang.

You also get to learn all the newest fashion choices, like flipping through a GQ magazine without having to read any articles like “28 Ways to Make Your Woman Orgasm” or “Tie Clips: Are They Ready to Make a Comeback?” Unfortunately, most of these sartorial choices tend to be pretty uniform in execution. Tight shirts+tight pants=fashion, apparently.

But the most important aspect of going to a gay bar is the ego trip.

Men will flirt with anything that walks and, since there are no social rules dictating that you have to “listen to what a woman is saying”, men will compliment you on just about anything.

For my friends, “Gay Night” has become something we do every two months or so. Started as a way to appease gay friends who complained that we straight dudes always went to “our” bars and not “theirs”, it has since become a fun night out where we make the homos guess which one of us is straight, which one of us is Jewish, and which one of us will flirt with you to get a free drink.

The way I see it, these nights are like Shakespearean dramas, categorized into three distinctive acts:

Act I: Out of Your Element

During this opening act, my straight friends and I will arrive at the bar a little wary yet happy to see our friends. We will stick to them like glue and ask them to pretend to be our boyfriends if some patron so much as looks at us.

We use this time to establish our manly straightitude, ordering shots of whiskey and loudly proclaiming, “Where are all the bitches?”

Gay men tend to roll their eyes at us during this phase since they are, clearly, not as into us and we think.

Act II: Let the Compliments Fly

After a few manly drinks and even more manly posturing, straight men will eventually get comfortable and even be flattered when a gay man winks at us or asks us if we work out.

We also start bragging about how how many phone numbers we could get and might even go so far as to flirt with a man or two just to prove this theory.

Our gay friends enjoy this act the most since we are brazenly losing our inhibitions and become much more fun to hang out with. Also, they like to gross us out with talk of dildos and arguments about how would be a “top” or a “bottom”. Whatever that means.

Act III: No, Seriously, Where Are All the Fucking Chicks?

After being exposed to so many men — in the bathroom, at the bar, by the door, outside in the smoking area — straight men will start to dishearten at the lack of female eye candy.

Even for those of us with girlfriends, the dearth of women can send shockwaves to our primitive mind. We will grow increasingly frustrated at this scarcity and bemoan “Gay Night” as a waste of time, money, and energy.

Our gay friends tend to stop paying attention to us at this point and focus it on men who would actually blow them. We start thinking about our girlfriends and lovers and computer porn clips and lament the state in which we have found ourselves.

Epilogue:

In the end, straight men go home with a more open and progressive view of the world. Maybe their otherwise broken spirits were lifted because some dude slapped their butt. Maybe they’re complimented on their choice of dress pants.

Or maybe we realize just how fucking important vagina is and resolve never to take it for granted — ever.