One of the unwritten rules about coming out is that the boyfriend that ushers you into the world of homosexual relationships must be unbelievably ugly. You're here, you're queer, and you're not nearly confident enough to nuzzle up to some gorgeous boy at first.
It takes a while to work up your courage to step into the darkly lit meat market that is a gay bar, first of all. I wouldn't recommend going alone. At least, not at first. Any man who wants to know what it's like to be a woman out alone in the world ought to consider spending an hour's quality time inside one. The power dynamics of the world turn upside down and you immediately transmogrify from predator to prey.
The skeeziest of the sleazy sashay up to you first, and unless you have your wits about you, you will find yourself fighting off inappropriate hand contact. You will find yourself the target of many tactless familar suggestions and will depart from them with a new found respect for the females in your midst. But me, I always go there to feel better about myself, for some perverse reason.
I never got much positive attention from men, and here, at least I get lustful stares rather than condemnation. It's peculiar. Queer, one might say.
Not that these are exactly the places one should find a significant other. In this homosexual parallel universe you have entered, some, if not most of the same rules apply as in hetero world. Gay bars are still good places to locate anonymous sexual partners and the sources of venereal disease. The same obnoxiously intoxicated people, just in different permutations, will be found in copious excess. You will quickly understand where and why the term "drama queen" was coined.
These sorts of men will want to show off their new cock rings. They only divy out their attention to those truly deserving, and only to those who they deem necessarily of it. You must measure up. It's snobbish, yes, but the sort of snobbery only self-loathing can produce.
It will take sticking up for yourself before you get Mullet Head to stop deliberately bumping his ass against your ass, feigning wild shots on the pool table. It will take a thick skin to know that being blown off numerous times is just part of the game. Arrogance and exaggerated self-confidence are the fuel that drives these engines.
Don't get your feelings hurt if your female companion gets more compliments and attention (aside from overtly gaping crotch stares) then you'll receive all night. This is to be expected.
Men are men, regardless if they suck cock or twat. They're just as insecure and scared as you are. And they're all trying to prove that they've got a bigger penis than you do. But don't believe the bullshit.
It takes a while to work up your courage to step into the darkly lit meat market that is a gay bar, first of all. I wouldn't recommend going alone. At least, not at first. Any man who wants to know what it's like to be a woman out alone in the world ought to consider spending an hour's quality time inside one. The power dynamics of the world turn upside down and you immediately transmogrify from predator to prey.
The skeeziest of the sleazy sashay up to you first, and unless you have your wits about you, you will find yourself fighting off inappropriate hand contact. You will find yourself the target of many tactless familar suggestions and will depart from them with a new found respect for the females in your midst. But me, I always go there to feel better about myself, for some perverse reason.
I never got much positive attention from men, and here, at least I get lustful stares rather than condemnation. It's peculiar. Queer, one might say.
Not that these are exactly the places one should find a significant other. In this homosexual parallel universe you have entered, some, if not most of the same rules apply as in hetero world. Gay bars are still good places to locate anonymous sexual partners and the sources of venereal disease. The same obnoxiously intoxicated people, just in different permutations, will be found in copious excess. You will quickly understand where and why the term "drama queen" was coined.
These sorts of men will want to show off their new cock rings. They only divy out their attention to those truly deserving, and only to those who they deem necessarily of it. You must measure up. It's snobbish, yes, but the sort of snobbery only self-loathing can produce.
It will take sticking up for yourself before you get Mullet Head to stop deliberately bumping his ass against your ass, feigning wild shots on the pool table. It will take a thick skin to know that being blown off numerous times is just part of the game. Arrogance and exaggerated self-confidence are the fuel that drives these engines.
Don't get your feelings hurt if your female companion gets more compliments and attention (aside from overtly gaping crotch stares) then you'll receive all night. This is to be expected.
Men are men, regardless if they suck cock or twat. They're just as insecure and scared as you are. And they're all trying to prove that they've got a bigger penis than you do. But don't believe the bullshit.