Beaver

Thoughts I have when I’m at a Gay Bar


Here’s the (bitter) tea

    (soz, I left the teabag in for too long);

That guy with the crisp haircut and beard is cute,

but is he too old for me? Nah, I’ve had older…

    (is that a problem?)

I like this drink, it’s sweet, tastes like rainbow candy,

or unicorn something.

    (whatever’s gayer I guess.)

C’mon anxiety, let’s get sickening.They’ll love 

that difference, that swing in your hip. Come thru and werk!

    (maybe I’m not masc enough for trade)

C’mon anxiety, just sit down and drink that cider, 

and maybe another vodka sprite. 

Or is that too many calories? 

    (Did I eat enough today? Should I be drinking this much?)

There are so many people here, why do I feel lonely?

    (I should try talking to someone)

But look at me;

fat, fem, asian…nobody gonna respond when you’re looking.

Maybe you’ll have luck with an older fella, heard they’re 

into rice? Get some sugar while you’re at it.

Y’all wanted a(n exotic) rent boy?

    (am I that kind of guy?)

Am I cute enough? Do I have enough makeup on?

Damn, these queens walking in here with mugs beat for the gods,

and my face is like baby drag realness…

    (it’s a sign I should learn to paint better)

Maybe lose the cardigan and wear a beanie to hide the 

mess a top my head I pass off as hair. 

    (looks like a shake-and-go wig, should invest in lace front)

I’m invisible aren’t I? Concealer on my face matches the 

background maybe. 

    (that’s an improvement)

I wanna serve these boys some looks, but I don’t have any.

Nobody’s gagging. I can hear them reading me in their heads.

    (Ain’t no hennies in this club)

That couple is cute, those two twinks with matching Andrew Christian

boxer briefs peeking out just beneath the hemline of their skinny jeans.

I can see their hands slowly moving underneath each others fabric, 

passionately caressing arse skin. Are they keen for a threesome?

    (oh look they’re making out.)

Has everybody found someone? I hear tongues popping

in foreign mouths. Maybe I should’ve come here with a boy.

    (that’s funny, what boy?)

Haha, maybe I should go, catch the cab before it leaves my

dignity in the shade. This house ain’t for me. 

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