Not to Sound Like a Lush
Last night, unexpectedly, and in front of a friend, I was denied entry to one of the local gay bars: The Bar Complex. The doorman said that the owner thought I needed to take a break and gave me the cryptic reasoning that it'd been two weeks - whatever that means. Yes, I do like to go out quite a bit, and yes, I do like to drink. But I also know a handful of men who are there every night, sometimes with their pets.
What I think this is really about is that the night before I came into The Bar and was met by the bouncer who said they were "closing." I said yes, sir, and continued up to the bar under the expectation, given how early it was, of getting a drink. I was met with a rather nasty, "I'm already closed" from the bartender David. So I got up and said, a little annoyed, that fine, I'd go to a straight bar because at least they stay open.
And ultimately I think this has to do with the fact that I've fucked David and been fucked by him at a local bookstore. He's always been somewhat of a jerk to me - I guess because I know his business, but up until today, I didn't really want to spread it around. I don't care if people know my business. So to be clear, yes, I use to go to a local adult bookstore and fuck around. Boo fucking hoo.
So now I've been exiled from The Bar, and I don't really wanna go back. The owner is a conservative gay, and has gone so far as to say that a friend can't exhibit his artwork at The Bar because it is too gay! Fucker!
So, I will henceforth be going to Tin-Roof with my straight friends: the owners are nicer and hotter, and the place isn't full of a bunch of Kentucky fags.