ventures forth into the unknown in the wilds of Maine.
775,720 @ 12:29 pm
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79 Miles from Home ....or My Big Fat Heterosexual Nightmare
Spectacular double rainbow at 7:19 pm Short Sands
After having dinner in York Beach at the famous Goldenrods about 8:21 I trekked through the backroads to Ogunquit.
Ahh, decades ago, I met some good-looking guy at a nightclub and we went on a couple of innocent dates...very innocent. He turned out to be more of a stick in the mud than I could have ever imagined, so lacking in both social and conversational skills it was like dating a shorter but equally stuffed-shirt version of Adam Knight, God help me and save me.
So back in the day...decades ago...on that second and final date with whatever his name was, two heterosexual couples were swapping spit on the beach. They were very cute. Since Ogunquit was known as a "gay resort" of sorts in Maine I said in my usual conversational style, raising my voice "NO HETEROSEXUAL KISSING ON THIS BEACH." Well both couples couldn't contain themselves and burst out laughing, they loved it.
My date, however, was muttering "I can't believe you did that. I can't believe you did that." This second date? It was all downhill from there, but who cares, you can't tell a book by the cover, and no matter how attractive the cover, so one must get "right down to the real nitty gritty" as the song says. We had no chemistry. I dropped him off at his home and never saw him again.
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After taking photos of the spectacular double rainbow at Short Sands, getting the high score at Ms. Pac Man twice at the Fun Arcade, and having a lovely dinner at Goldenrods, I began the back-road journey to Ogunquit.
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I will leave my personal feelings about being at this vacation spot that means so much to me out as many of the friends I would travel with to the gay bars of Ogunquit have sadly passed on. I will say it was an introspective day and with two of my close friends both out of state today (who would come with us in the past ) I decided to not ask any of my new buds to travel, it was a day for solitude and relaxation. Flying solo ...
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OGUNQUIT
My first thoughts upon entering Ogunquit were from my always spot-on Gaydar. The people walking on both sides of the street in what we call "P-Town North" were distinctly of the heterosexual persuasion, at least as far as my highly intuitive "gaydar" was advising. Hmmm...something is afoot.
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So I park my car at Ogunquit Beach (free parking after 9 pm, take that Stephanie) and headed to the Front Porch, always the first stop on the gay bar tour of the land of O. And one would think with a rainbow straight out of Oz, Dorothy, down at York Beach 2, a gay old time would be had.
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Now keep in mind my gaydar's warnings upon not seeing festive fairies and nellies grabbing their buddy's buns (singular, one grab at a time,) on the sidewalk, the half a dozen makes a gang at and of this famous homo haunt were not as prominent as they were "back in the day." In fact, the question was if any of the straight-looking hunks out and about were queer at all. ! ???
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Getting to the Front Porch there was a line.
A line at the Front Porch? And the mix was a guy and a girl, a girl and a guy...this is a GAY BAR, dammit...what the hell is going on?
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When it is (finally) my turn to go in they ain't singing "People...people who need people..." they are singing the final song from the Soprano's tv show, Journey's "Don't Stop Believing." In a gay bar? And as I walk up the stairs the only homosexual looking guys are the employees.
The place is jammed with heterosexual couples and lots of women!!!
What the hell is going on? Is this a Twilight Zone episode? I haven't been out of circulation that long....or have I?
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Now towards the end of the old Fritz in Boston women were starting to invade our men's sport's club. I did not like it one bit (discrimination? To quote Sarah Palin, "You betcha.") One of the door men told me to be "open minded," but another one (the good looking one) was 100 percent in agreement with my line of thinking. And we were correct. You see, the legendary Fritz is now an "invisible homosexual establishment." It is a full-blown sports bar for people from all walks of life, sad queens mixed in with the straights from out of town staying at the Chandler Inn.
No need to ask the obvious question, has it really come down to this? It has. The Evangelicals should never have fought the gay movement (which, of course, was to extort their own "religious right" to hand over piles of cash.) If they were truly honest, all the lust-in-their-hearts closeted Republicans could have just invaded the gay bars and taken over, acting queer like these heterosexuals in Ogunquit, some invasive species throttling the life out of a once flourishing same-sex world.
Forget RINO, these are all GINO ...gays in name only.
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The singers, mostly women at the piano, are singing the Monkees "Daydream Believer."
The Monkees?
In an F.J. (ok, we'll use the other three letter word euphemism, in a Gay Joint instead of fxx joint, ya happy?)
Suddenly, I figured it out. Heteros have claimed Ogunquit as their own, and now that people aren't afraid of homosexuals it's some kind of quasi-exotic added bonus to their summer vacation(s). "We went to a gay bar. We had a blast. Why let gays have all the fun?"
It's just MY theory, based on gaydar instruction, and I'm probably right.
Can't Jeanine and Paul invite all these heterosexuals vicariously living through my escapades down to Disneyworld or something? Oh, that's right, Stephanie Muccini-Burke isn't lavishing taxpayer money on everyone, just her supporters.
I ask one of the two obvious homosexual door men (oh how petty of me! Labeling people!) "When did this become a straight bar."
The man says with a sad sigh "years ago."
Years ago? Have I really been out of circulation that long? Perhaps I have. Well, there's always the gay disco. I'll head over there.
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I walk across the street in the world where you could pick up a date right ON the street (not anymore!) and can't seem to find the disco.
A ha! The awning. Three motorbikes. I'm saved. I walk up to the secret back door and pull it via the handle and...it's locked. It doesn't open. OK, there's a restaurant in front where most of the downstairs bar was...times change, I figure...but...but... that door that was not open...that WAS a, strike that, THE "Twilight Zone moment."
It was eerie.
The fixtures of the town, the twin gay clubs across the street from each other...what the hell's going on?
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I go upstairs. No admission fee. That's odd.
It's a restaurant too. "Wasn't this a gay bar?" I asked two of the employees.
One of them answered me "It was many."
I'm now in shock.
"Gay marriage did it," the fellow tells me, "gay people are no longer "different," people are people. I'm 100 percent breeder" the guy says, proudly declaring his heterosexuality, but if I get hit on, who cares? It's my job.
???????
"Is there a gay bar in this town?" I desperately asked the two fellows in what is now Harry's Hamburgers (if THAT doesn't sound as gay as Herbie's Ramrod Room, what - pray tell - does?)
They both tell me to go to what I thought was a club called "Main Street" - and they noted "across from the CVS you went by when you came into town." (Well, I came in through the "back door," ahem, knowing the area, but I knew where they meant.)
And there it was - MAINE STREET, get it! What a quaint little name. And a drag show!
A homosexual establishment! Am I saved?
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There at the entrance, a homosexual male and a lesbian! Things seem to be getting back to normal.
"Is there a cover" I ask
"Only for the drag show. $15.00." Otherwise it is free admission. The nice lesbian lady goes to stamp my hand that I've extended but the fellow says "on the wrist." They put the stamp under, not over...weird....
So I enter Maine Street for the first time.
And what do I see? Women! Women!
Women women everywhere. Straight women, some lesbians, but obviously straight women. And heterosexuals. Everywhere. What the hell is going on?
The barback is shirtless. And he's cute. The other waiter is tall and stunningly beautiful. Along with some older queens (present company excluded, of course) they were the minority. The disco music? Chicks dancing on the dance floor. A couple of dudes who may or may not be gay (ok, they most likely WERE) were dancing, but it wasn't the old 1270 in Boston, it's not Machine over near Fenway Park (tucked inside Herbie's Ramrod) - it's a travesty. Gay life has become a vacation novelty for bored heterosexuals. They think they have descended into our dark, secret world. But guess what, heteros? We ain't there. And it is no longer "dark and secret." You've turned what was a society of men getting together with other men an amusement park for your Saturday night.
You're all a bunch of "counterfeit fags" to quote my friend Willie in his song "Bimbo."
"In my rock and roll drag...
I'm a counterfeit fag"
Willie "Bimbo"
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I'll take the tall, hunky waiter, thank you very much...but can't wait around till 2 am to do so....
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As I'm leaving Maine Street I talk to the nice lesbian lady at the door.
"Are there any gay people in Ogunquit?"
She replied "I know" - as chagrined as I am, only she works here.
"Gay is no longer taboo" she tells me.
So the heterosexuals hijack our world?
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I walk down towards the parking lot. Some handsome dude with a nice shirt and a book in his hand cuts me off from the left. Hmmmm....this could be interesting. He's not striking up a conversation, but neither am I. I'm actually too fearful to...he might be straight.
Then a fellow with a red shirt is riding his bike. He cruises me. A HA! There is homosexual life still in Ogunquit. Then some fellow in a convertible is blaring Santana's "Oye Como Va" at 9:50 pm at night (there ARE hotels and residences here but...) and he's making a circle up the road, into the parking lot, down the road, blaring the Santana classic at what sounds like full volume
Oye Como Va
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NsJ84YV1oA
*Click above if you want a soundtrack to get the full experience to this story
The handsome guy heads towards the beach. Is this where the action is? I'm tired, I head to my car. Not in the mood to make conversation, not in the mood to make time for 45 minutes only to find out he's straight. No thank you, I can do that in Boston any time I want.
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It's ten pm. I start the car and journey home...estimated time 11:25. Time I arrive home, 11:24!
File under: My Big FAT HETEROSEXUAL NIGHTMARE...Rod Serling, where are you when we need you?
The only way I'll be entering Milton tonight is if I drive down the Southeast expressway TO that city and look at the sign "Entering Milton" and drive on by.
Oh well... I did get some great photos 8:24 at Short Sands, York Beach Maine after the storm
Photo above the Fun Arcade
where I got the Ms. Pac Man high score
TWICE last night.
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12:02 pm July 24, 2016
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12:12 am July 24, 2016
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