TORONTO
After catching a few zzz's, Bruce took me to the
gay neighborhood, Church Street and Wellesley. It looked like every other
gay neighborhood with rainbow flags, bookstores, restaurants and a bar
with desperate men giving desperate stares. We were off to dance at a place
called The Barn. At the check-in point, we had to check in our jackets,
bags, shirts and pants - this was an underwear party only. I was a bit
shy at first, it felt like I was changing for my gym workout just minus
the clothes. Tucking my money in my socks, we went up to the upstairs bar
which was pumping out music. People were playing pool in their underwear,
striking poses at the bar and even a few were totally nude! Porn was playing
on the TV's while a few feet away the sex room was alongside it. Yep, this
was a "let everything hang out" kinda place. We hopped onto the dance floor
alongside boys in skimpy thongs, naked hairy men doing poppers and preppy
boys in their preppy whites. Everyone was having fun and that's all it
was about, just some good ol' fun. It was like a recapturing of the past,
reconnecting to a time when it was all just about having fun and being
free. It wasn't even very sexual, there were people grinding hip to hip
with each other and pretending to go down on each other and pretending
to fuck each other. There was a lot of pretending going on, it was interesting.
I was just having fun sweating it out and I got a little starved though.
Bruce told me there was no snacks to be had, but luckily I found that for
a quarter I could get a handful of peanuts. I got 4 quarters worth and
felt infinitely better. It gave me a little more energy, so we danced out
the party. There was this one cute guy dancing fiercely next to me, a tight
dancer's body with dark hip-huggin spandex pushed dangerously low, a pack
of cigs on one side of the shorts and a water bottle down the butt side.
Where else are you gonna put all your necessities? I called him a rent
boy and Bruce laughed. I think anyone'who looks that hot has to be on steroids
and a rent boy. There was a last call for putting on underwear. For some
reason everyone was ordered to put on their underwear 15 minutes before
closing time. A few rebels disobeyed as they continued dancing, flopping
their manhood this way and that. We made our way off the floor and got
back into our clothes while someone chatted us up, our first conversation
of the evening, everything before was in silent, gay body language.
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