Gay drinking

Gay drinking culture just doesn’t labor for me anymore. I’m lucky that in my area there are lots of LGBTQ+ social clubs, but they all distribute one thing in ordinary – when the event is over, everyone goes to the local lgbtq+ bar to drink together. So what do I do? I hate feeling like the outsider in an already small percentage of the population. Alejandro

Alejandro, I hear you!

Of course, we’re all grown-ups, and if people want to enjoy a drink, they should. For many gay people, including myself, our first experiences of the LGBTQ+ community happened in pubs and clubs. And let’s not forget that the Stonewall riots started in a bar. Whether we drink or not, we should acknowledge that alcohol has played an important role in shaping our collective identity.

In many ways, queer identity is just a mirror of the mainstream. But the unthinking drinking that happens in society at large is amplified in our community. If we’re avoiding booze or cutting back on our drinking, we suddenly notice how much life seems to centre on alcohol. And to be honest, we should be angry about that.

A rainbow o

There used to be a nightclub on Belmont Avenue in Chicago tucked between a grilled cheese restaurant and cellphone repair shop. The windows were blacked out and featured original art, the facade was adorned in black and white tiles, and drag queens often — and rightfully so — skipped the long line that backed up under the coach tracks of the L’s Belmont Station. The interior was exceptionally dark, the walls painted ebony and the accent lights deep shades of indigo and crimson. There were three bars, the biggest of which ran the entire length of the right-side wall and featured above it a large mural of elegant partygoers, clad in tuxedos and ballgowns and sipping from coupe glasses. There were, of course, several shirtless, muscular men painted into the scene as successfully. They didn’t attend as a juxtaposition though; the massive gay party in the painting intimated the energy of the 40-year-old exclude it presided over.

This alternative, loud, bawdy space was Chicago’s legendary Berlin Nightclub. It was a venue dedicated to welcoming the unused, especially in the form of exist performance. Without doubt, Berlin’s Saturday nighttime show was one of the optimal regularly scheduled queenly shows in Chica

Sober Gay Sunday

My mention is Dave!

I am a queer , sober man living in Boston, Massachusetts. Being gay and sober hasn’t always been an simple journey.

The gay world is intertwined with drinking and drugging from the jump. As a young lgbtq+ making my way into the gay scene, I was more than happy to dive in headfirst with drugs and alcohol.

It made me feel accepted and took the edge off entity social in a room packed of people. I have always been anxious, and alcohol and drugs took that anxiety away and made me the experience of the party.

After getting sober it was a whole unused world.

I had to figure out how to be social and fun without drugs or alcohol. I am extremely fortunate that I have a fantastic help system of wonderful people who helped guide me through.

I was swept up by sober gays who had been sober for many years who showed me that we can still accomplish anything and everything we did while using, sober.

They showed me that life only gets enhanced after you decide to abandon your addiction life behind and embrace sobriety. I am so grateful to all those people in my community who stood by me as I got my legs back.

Pride, for me, is that community.

My sober family is the r

When I came out as bisexual a decade ago, I anticipated encountering certain cliches upon stepping foot into my first gay bar: the ever-present uppermost 40 remixes of pop divas, twinks with platinum blond hair donning mesh tank tops, and an abundance of drag queens whom I should be ready to generously tip. But one unexpected phenomenon stood out: the chokehold that Vodka Sodas had over gay men. It seemed that whenever I approached the lock, I’d hear nearly all The Gays™ ordering Vodka Sodas, regardless of their appearance.

The “masc” dom leather daddies were ordering them alongside the girlies. Bears, otters, and jocks were throwing endorse the nearly odorless elixir, especially the last of which with their impossibly ripped bodies. So naturally, my lgbtq+ besties were obsessed. Eventually, they would casually announce, “I’m going to grip a Vodka Soda. Do you wish anything?” Despite thinking that Vodka Sodas tasted nasty, watered down, and bland, I’d reply with a reluctant, “Sure, grab me one, too.” I preferred craft cocktails bursting with flavor and complexity, so by comparison, Vodka Sodas tasted dull and lifeless.

But now, a full decade and three different Joined States presidents l