Bar Room Blitz

I've always known that drama happens at gay bars. It's one of those myths that is just accepted by people such as the existence of the g spot or the fact that Miley Cyrus' boyfriend ISN'T gay.

I was at Roscoe's last week with the boyfriend and a group of his law school cohorts when a stray hand gesture made by the boyfriend connected with the glass of an unsuspecting queen who was passing by. The glass flew back onto the queen's face and he drew back as if he was a foreign diplomat who just got hit by a stray bullet.

The queen gasped and put his hands on his face telling everyone that he was fine and I would have been concerned had, it not been for the fact that I recognized these movements from an episode of La Mujer de Judas, where Altagracia gets shot. It happened suddenly, it was super dramatic, and the whole thing took about twenty minutes when it only should have taken a few seconds. That sad little queen milked that moment harder than a farmer trying to win first prize at the Pennsylvania State Fair milking contest.

My boyfriend bought the queen another drink and that should have been the end of it. He didn't have to, but he also made sure that the queen was okay even though I objected loudly, pointing out that it was merely an accident and that there was no blood. The queen faded into the crowd, being overly-consoled by his coterie of queerbait.

I spent some time reflecting on why I was so upset at the situation. At first I assumed it was because the focus was taken away from me, but I also think that I'd seen myth become reality and I wasn't ready to handle that.

I know I'll get some angry e-mails, calling me a heartless bastard for not being concerned about the possibility of the queen having internal injuries from a cocktail glass to the cheek. But let's take a step back and realize that gay bars are battlefields and casualties are inevitable. I can't tell you how many pairs of shoes I've lost to underage drinkers vomiting on them. I've been pushed, shoved, groped, ogled, and motorboated. I've been elbowed in the nose while dancing on the dancefloor and I still kept dancing, despite the fact that blood was gushing down my face.

Cocktail glass to the cheek... psha!