Interraciality, Part I

The other night at a local gay club, while I was enjoying a celebration for one of my fag hag's professional achievements, I had just enough cocktails to get out on the dance floor. Another one of my female friends joined me out there, and as we swirled away to 80s dance music, I noticed two men off to my left. They clicked so well together, dancing like intertwined birds... arms and hands draped over each other... eyes locked onto one another as if communicating by some extrasensory means.

Now, you're probably saying.. "Kevin, it's a gay bar with guys all over the dance floor. What's the big deal?" Just tie your wings up for a second, I'm getting there. You see, these weren't just two every day gaybirds dancing in the pale moon light. One of them was a 5'10" White guy, dressed like the guy-next-door. The other, a 6' or so Black guy, dressed like the guy-next-door... and there were NO other paired-up dancers like that in the whole joint. Both of them looked as though they walked straight out of the office and onto the dance floor.

Now, you're really scratching your head.. "Kevin, interracial couples are out all the time, and it's a common thing nowadays. After all, the 1960s are long gone." Maybe in your neck of the woods, but...

To that, I say, "Wrong."

I have long walked the streets here in this Texas metropolis called Dallas/Ft. Worth, and you'd be surprised how rare it is to see any interracial couples walk down "rainbow avenue"... much less dancing together in a club. In these parts, out of all racial combinations that you would see on occasion, White-Black 'interraciality' seems to be one of the rarest dynamics. Anyway, as my fag hag twirled me around on the dance floor, I was completely mesmerized. I tried not to make it obvious that I was staring at them, but it was the most refreshing sight that I've ever seen at The Mining Company gay club.

Perhaps somewhere deep in the recesses of your brain, you are asking me "Why?"... Hmmmm, probably because in all my years of dating, I've heard so much about the stigmas of "interraciality", be it homo- or heterosexual. I've had everything from religious beliefs to statistics thrown in my face, and my past failed interracial relationships only bolster those statistics.

But that night, on that dance floor, I felt the energy of two soul mates of interraciality... and it was strong. Love really does have no color, and I walked off of the dance floor smiling, tipsy, and hopeful.

Inside the Lion's Den

Today, my thoughts rest upon one of my best friends from Chicago, Illinois. We've been friends for years now, and we have quite a bit in common. We work for the same place; both love to travel; both love men; both delved heavily into religion in the past; both tend to put others' needs ahead of our own; and both come from 'families' not consisting of a mother and a father -- like many conservatives define a true family to consist of.

Despite all of our similarities, it is perhaps our differences that make our friendship so strong. Most certainly, we've come to respect each other's different philosophies in life. That difference in philosophy truly shines when we go out to bars together.

You see, recently, we went out to The Mining Company -- a dark, mineshaft-themed gay bar in Dallas' Cedar Springs gayborhood. The crowd seems less pretentious there, and there's definitely an age difference between TMC and other nearby bars. Nevertheless, when we walk through those front doors and into the cavernous bellows of the lion's den within, reality blurs for my friend... and I already know how it's going to play out.

Supposedly, the inner soul thrives on one of four core engines: power, intimacy, fun, and peace -- so the color code theory goes. My friend most definitely thrives on fun... and the bare-chested go-go boys, beefy bartenders, and hot, sweaty man-skin seems to instill some sort of hope for something more meaningful down the road. TMC has just the type of man he is looking for, but deep down, he clings to the belief that he can walk out with the heart, soul, and love of any bar fly --- after a night of hot passion in the sheets.

But, I watch helplessly as a sexy bartender pours more and more liquor into his glass, and it flows into his inner child, blurring reality even further. After the bartender engages in conversation with him, he takes that as an advance -- or someone that is receptive to giving him what he wants and needs after last call. Within moments, he's passing out his phone number like free condoms.

Now, my inner soul is driven by the core engine of intimacy. I see bars as nothing more than a place to hang out with friends and have good conversation over drinks... not to mention the occasional "make-a-fool-out-of-myself" routines on the dance floor. Bartenders and go-go boys will smile, say "honey", "baby", "sweety", and all sorts of other words for one main reason... CASH. For a man looking for intimacy, they are like props in a meat market.

Don't get me wrong... I love man-watching just like the next guy, but it IS a meat market. It can even be the proverbial lion's den if you are out for one thing, but truly need another. Lust drips from the walls and onto the floor. If you see where I'm coming from, then you agree that over-emphasis on youth, appearance, and status is shoving kryptonite into the hearts for those that need more for true happiness.

Immediately, physicality has taken priority above all else... and that's totally cool if lust and physicality is all my friend wants. However, as time passes, I become more convinced that he may thrive on fun; but it's not the oil that his engine truly needs in order to run. If he is expecting something more either instantly or down the road --he will continue to walk away hurt, as he did that night... and the night before... and the night before. Then again, what do I know? I'm an over-the-hill, cynical, 30-something, cast-ironed blogger that has no sense of anything but dark realities... only because I learned important lessons the hard way.

*grin*

I love my friends to death. I would die over and over for them... and I know I can be suffocating with my opinions, to the point where I'm dangerously judgmental. It's only because I care -- not to argue who's right or wrong -- but because it sucks being used, abused, hurt, and treated like trash at the first sign of trouble. Nevertheless, from this post forward, I will bite my tongue. I'll be there for my friend to lean on. I'll be there as a drunk man's crutch between the bar counter and the car. I'll hide his keys and take him home. But in his war to snag the "perfect" bar fly, I'll opt to stand outside of the lion's cage and hope for the best.

Rise of a New Building

There may be hope for Dallas' oldest gayborhood yet. I can remember the days of driving along Cedar Springs and pulling into the Tom Thumb to grab a few 'items' on the way home from work. I remember the dates I had at the old Crossroads Market. Or how about the dark, mine-shaft themed club called Throckmorton Mining Company that ominously closed last year? I miss that 'Wall of Shame' where hopeful one-night standers hung out.

Recently, TMC has moved around the corner and reopened with a vengeance. It's certainly a relief to meet my friends there for Sunday night 80s dance music again. Good, stiff drinks... a Ms. Pac Man machine... and of course, good-lookin' men -- all are back on the menu after a 10-month hiatus. But now, something else catches my eye.

Out of the rubble of a long-gone Tom Thumb rises a new development. Apparently, this place is called Illume (rendering pictured above) -- a mixture of high-end retail, ritzy restaurants, and upscale apartments to revitalize "The Strip"... just what every neighborhood needs during a blundering economy. Seriously, though.. from what I read, the developers are aiming to revitalize gay-anchored neighborhoods all over the country with a broad paintbrush of brighter colors.

I wish them luck, and I'm glad that Cedar Springs is getting a boost. The caveat to all of this is the fact that nowadays, developers seem to be hell-bent on attracting both gay and straight crowds. I can't blame them, as it only makes good business since. At the same time, I'm afraid that this will dilute or otherwise water down the gay identity imprinted in the Cedar Springs neighborhood. But, I guess that's the price we must ultimately pay in exchange for more tolerance and acceptance.

Hmmm... I wonder if Illume's developers supported Prop 8 with generous donations. Nothing sucks more than taking our (gay/lesbian) money and using it to attack us behind our backs.