Well, if things go as planned, Beth and I are going to Freddie's tomorrow night, and I am hoping her friend Terry and my friend Sean will join us. We'll see what happens.
But I get all kinds of grief about why I don't go out, so if anyone ever discovers this blog, here it is for all to see, in easy-to-follow story format.
So, here's the scenario: I have acquired enough chutzpah that I have decided to go to Dupont Circle on a Saturday night, and since I don't like driving in DC because of parking and other things, I am going to take the Metro.
So on my way, the following things could happen. My car could break down on the way to the station, there could be no parking, and if I can find a parking space, I might not be able to get a farecard, or I could lose it en route.
But let's say that I make it to the Dupont Circle, and I exit. I have no earthly clue where these gay clubs are, so I have a map, making me look like a tourist, and an easy mark. So there is the possibility of getting mugged. And even if that doesn't happen, I could get lost and wind up wandering the streets of DC alone.
If I am actually able to make it to somewhere listed on the map I would have, I might not have what it takes for me to enter the club (in other words, I chicken out), or, if I have the gumption to try to get in, I could be barred at the door. After all, I am not exactly an Abercrombie model.
But let's say I get in. The biggest possibility is that I will probably find a wall and adhere my shoulders to it, getting more or less ignored. But if someone approaches me (as had happened at the Dulles Triangles), chances are that I will be unable to speak and the person would lose interest in talking to me rather quickly. Another thing that could happen is that I could actually approach someone, and whoever it is would probably think "who is this ugly motherfucker and why would he actually think I would be interested in talking to him?" and suddenly disappear (a la Kwicky Koala) and reappear on the other side of the bar.
Then there is the chance that I could very easily get thrown out for not drinking alcohol, making room for someone who will actually make the bar money. And if I am not careful and looking at my drink very carefully, someone could spike it with some sort of drug. Or far worse is that I could be cornered and forced to take crystal meth or ecstasy.
Although it is a little less likely, the club could be raided by the police, and I could be arrested, even though I wasn't exactly doing anything illegal.
Now let's look at the extremely unlikely scenario of someone interested in having me join him at home. First, my suspicious nature is always there: since he wants me, he either is (1) drunk and in possession of some major beer goggles, (2) rolling on e, (3) tweaked on tina, or (4) just has really low standards. But if I ignore my better judgment and get into his car with him (keeping in mind I came on the Metro), I might wind up being kidnapped and taken to Timbuktu. Or, if he is on drugs or drunk, the cops could arrest us, and I could wind up in jail, again having done nothing wrong.
But if that is not the case and we go to his place, he could be a mass murderer, and I wind up in his refrigerator for months before the police discover why I never came home. If he isn't, he might want to bareback (again, since he would do anything that moves, he probably is HIV+), or he won't respect my limits as to what I will and won't do (I find some aspects of gay sex disgusting).
With this in mind, he could either throw me out (with no way home), or imprison me in his house, stealing my wallet and other possessions.
If none of these fears come to fruition, there is always the problem with performance anxiety.
Should things go well enough, there is the problem of my getting home from his house. It could be a problem if he is unwilling to give me a lift back to the Metro, or if it is too late and the Metro has stopped running, or if I get into the system too late and I wind up trapped inside. I don't know if I would have enough money for a taxi all the way home, and I don't know if cabs in DC accept credit cards.
But this is highly unlikely. Most likely is that after standing around in a bar for two hours watching everyone else have a good time, I will just want to leave, completely demoralized and unlikely to ever go back. Coming home from that would also be challenging. I am fairly certain that gay bashers wait outside gay bars for someone to leave alone, so that they can commit some heinously violent crime. Like in the after sex scenario, there is the possibility of my getting trapped in the Metro system, or finding Metro closed.
But if I manage to make it back to my car, the anxieties don't end there! Since my car has been sitting there for several hours, there is no guarantee that it will still be there. It could be mistaken for being abandoned and then towed, or it could be stolen, or vandalized.
Rounding out this is the same thing that began it: a breakdown or accident on the way home.
So there you have it: why I don't go out. Although it decreases my chances of meeting anyone, it is probably far safer to just stay home and do laundry on Saturday night.
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