Obsessive, and expressive

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accidentally me
You know what I hate? I hate it when you accidentally  bump into a gay bar, walk in and they start staring at you like you lost your way. It's a bar, isn't it? And they have drinks, preferably the good, strong kind. So, why can't I drink here?

Yesterday night, after enduring 5 hours on a chair to get my hair braided, I wanted food, drink, anything...a nice shot of something to numb the pain just before my food arrives. And I bump into this "restaurant", right beside the Thai restaurant I actually intended to go to. So I think, how about a shot of something to numb the pain as I wait for my food to arrive, or better yet, bar food, even more filling and satisfying. As I walk towards it, immediately the guy at the door stops me with a "Yes, can I help you?"

"This is a restaurant, right," I ask naively.
"It's actually a bar." He replies, omitting the gay part. And very well, I didn't know such a subcategory existed, like is there a "straight" bar, maybe that's what I've been going to since, straight bars, and alas, here's the gay one. 

So I respond, not even detecting the tone in his voice as he inspects me with his gaydar, my freshly minted braids begged to differ. So, okay she's not gay, just hungry, stupid and in need of a drink.

In my mind I am thinking, it's late they are probably about to shut down shop, or at least the kitchen aspect of it. "Okay, so do you have food?" "Yes but the kitchen is closed."

I look at my watch, certainly it can't be that late. So he mellows out and says, "Oh, no, not actually closed. You have 30 minutes, but we don't have that much." So I walk in, still very hungry and irritated with this conversation. I couldn't quite understand why he was policing me at the door, you either ask me for the cover charge or my ID, but if I am a paying customer (or I seem like one), there really is no need to stop me at the door to play twenty questions. 

So I walk in. Bar top one. Gay couple caressing. Bar top two, other gay couple whispering, giggling and smoking. And the rest of the servers were hanging some kind of disc glitter from the roof. Surely this is a gay bar. I contemplate, I am so thirsty it really doesn't matter, the drinks will still taste the same. But then, the smoke and that glitter, and they don't even have wings on the menu, what decent bar skips wings from their menu...the gay bar that's what. So I pass. No shot, no food. I keep it simple. Police guard at the door is ever so pleased as I walk out, like he says almost with a smirk, Okay, see you later. Like he knew I would walk out. It was only a matter of time. He was lucky I was hungrier than I was thirsty, if not, I would have stayed, with the smoke, the glitter and all. 

In summary, why can't we straight people not crash gay bars, why is there even such a subcategory? What is wrong with this world, what's with all the subsets. I can understand rich and poor, but if we can help the subsets why create them? Just give me a drink please, and hold the glitter and the smoking for outside. I just need my shot, dammit. 


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