Reasons I love gay bars.

Oh, let me count the ways.

First, I'm not the hottest chick on the planet, but even fugly chicks get their asses grabbed in nightclubs. I'm a fan of gay bars, because if it for some reason does happen, I'm fairly certain it doesn't really mean anything. Whereas, if I'm in a straight nightclub, they're usually trying to get in my pants. I can't even begin to tell you how many times I'll be standing at the bar of whatever hip nightclub just opened and some dude comes up to me and grabs my ass. It's so flipping annoying and the quickest way to have me put you on my own personal do not call list. This is why I generally don't go to nightclubs in the first place.

Second, I rarely have to worry about getting roofied. Or, flooried as it were. Either way, I'm pretty sure no one in a gay bar is going to mistake me for a drag queen, and therefore, they're not going to try to sleep with me. As such, putting a roofie in my drink is completely wasting it, and usually guys put them in the drinks of people they want to get in bed with, AKA, not mine. At least that's been my experience with it. Different story for a different day though.

Third, rarely has a night a gay bar ever cost me more than $30. I like cheap drinking nights. There is little in life more irritating to me than finding a receipt for a $100 night. Or worse, the bartender calling me the next day and letting me know I walked out on said $100 bar tab. Yes, it's happened.

3a. The first reason these tend to be cheap drinking nights is because the drinks are stupid strong. Like a glass of vodka and a splash of cranberry strong. Which translates into only needing a couple of them to get the job done, therefore resulting in a cheap bar tab.

3b. The second reason is because it's rare that I'm buying my own drinks in said bar, but when I do, see 3a.. I usually roll in with friends, and they usually pay for everything. And sometimes when we go, it's two-for-ones, or even three-for-ones (see 3a). Other times we go, friends introduce me to their friends and they pay for everything. On a rare occasion, I'll meet the one straight guy in the place, and those are the best. They're so excited to see a semi-hot chick in the place I've got drinks coming my way all night long. This scenario however heightens my awareness of the whole roofie situation, though not a lot. Straight guys in gay bars rarely travel with roofies.

The fourth reason I totally dig on gay bars is because there are those nights I'm in the mood to just shake my ass. And when I'm in that mood, I don't need some sweaty ass dude with frosted tips and a popped collar fist-pumping his way all up in my space. Especially if he reeks like Drakkar Noir (side story - but DN stopped smelling good in high school, guys). I dance better alone, and sometimes I just like to stare at super hot guys that are ripped dancing without their shirts on to the same Madonna remix that I love. Or J-Lo. Or whatever super awesome music they're playing. Because music in gay bars NEVER sucks.

For the better part of the last week, I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with a fifth reason to like gay bars. And really? I can't. If the first four didn't sell you on it, then I'm done. I give up. If those four aren't good enough, than you probably should stay away from them. Hopefully it'll free up a barstool for me to plant myself on. Speaking of, if you can recommend any good ones in NOLA, I'm willing to listen to recommendations.

Saturday Boringday?

The life of a single girl isn’t always as glamorous as it seems. Saturday was one of those days. A trip to Target, a venture to the suburbs to meet a friend for a beer, moping (and by moping, I mean eating Baked Doritos, drinking Diet Coke and writing blog posts) about on my porch due to the lack of a social life here – ah, the mundane boring things that married people do!

But then, sometimes the life of a single girl IS as glamorous as it seems!!

A call out to my assistant, pleading for girly time lifted my mood immediately. She had mentioned earlier in the day that she had made a verbal commitment for the evening (which depressed me immediately because I was being a negative nancy). Turns out, the verbal commitment was with a couple co-workers at a super cute restaurant with a fabulous patio.

She had told me a week or so prior about the exclusive “Veuve” parties thrown by one of our co-workers. I didn’t know him that well, but when someone says Veuve, I say how high? I agreed immediately and inquired about the dress code. Fancy schmancy, of course. And what better dress to wear than my new dress straight out of Sex and the City 2?! I of course wanted to wear my new shoes, but the pedicure I treated myself to the day prior dictated open toed shoes. Not wanting to change my yellow purse out for the black one, I settled on these, in blue snakeskin. Yum.

We met at my place and cabbed it here, an ULTRA cute restaurant in the Marigny that used to house servants on an old plantation. The history in this city is amazing. We sat in the little courtyard, sipping champagne, the sounds of water fountains dancing in our ears. While I wasn’t particularly hungry, the crab cake was toying with me, until I saw the macadamia nut cheesecake on the menu. Dessert for dinner? Sold.

After a while, we packed up and into the “bus”, and headed off to the house party. I assumed this would be a most extravagant event, with tons of fabulous people, and amazing appetizers. I was a bit disappointed it was just the four of us, only because the utter hotness I was radiating was completely and utterly wasted with three girls, one husband and the first member of my NOLA gaytourage. Once I got past that though, it was super fun. The house was pure southern charm – his partner is an artist and basically painted the whole house. It was stunning!

We made it through three bottles of Veuve before we cracked the absinthe….in fairness, I only had a sip, but it was much better than I remember it. Maybe it was in the presentation (traditionally with a spoon and flaming sugar vs. out of a bottle in Ireland), maybe it was the company (fabulous colleagues), but it was delightful – the anise danced all over my tongue and down my throat, warming everything as it made its way to its resting spot.

It was one of the best evenings I’ve had since I’ve been here – so thanks to all involved. I really appreciate and can’t wait for the next time.