"Hey, can I get a beer and a gin and tonic?" The guy asking had just squeezed himself into the fractional space along the bar next to me.
"What kinda beer, honey?" Asked the bartender, already pouring out the gin and tonic water simultaneously.
"Whatever's good." The man turned toward me; out of the corner of my eye, I could see his eyes dart from my face to the half empty glass of beer in my hand. "Gimme what he's got. And make it two."
The bartender craned his neck to see my glass. Unquestionably able to hear that I'd been drawn into this situation, I raised my glass slightly and said, "Heineken."
"Oh. Oh, no. Cancel that, sweetheart." The man said, leaning his head toward the bartender but keeping his gaze on the side of my face. "Better make it something else, uh..."
He clicked his fingers, trying to remember, before saying, "What's that hoppy one at the end with the lighthouse?"
There was a gentlemanly drawl to his southern accent, the kind that made each syllable a slow and deliberate delicacy. I chanced a glance at him as he waved at the lighthouse shaped tap. He looked back at me briefly and caught my eye as I stared. I quickly turned my gaze back to my beer.
The bartender came back with the beer in two glasses, the froth overflowing, and I dared a second time to watch him as casually as I could while he dealt with the check.
He was a brawny man. Taller than me and had dark curly hair and beard with bright blue eyes. His forearms were hairy, as was his meaty chest and round belly, which were visible through the striped button down he wore open. If I asked Josh, I bet he'd tell me this guy was a 'bear.' For his bottoms, he was wearing only a bright red speedo.
"Here you go, darlin'," he said when the transaction was complete and he slid one of the beer glasses over to me. "This one's for you. Trust me, it's better than whatever you believe you're gettin' outta that piss." He nodded toward my glass.
I turned, finally, to face him. "Hey, listen. I'm not..."
"Darlin', I don't really care what you're about to say," he leaned in closer and tapped me delicately on the nose, "just try the beer and tell me that's not better."
I was taken aback by the bold move, and he just stood there with a playful and expectant expression on his face. Up close, I could see that his face was well groomed. There was not a curl out of place nor a beard hair astray. A pearl dangled from his right ear and he wore a thin gold chain with a pendant I couldn't quite see. It lay partially obscured by his copious chest hair. But it was his eyes that held me captive for that brief moment. They were just so blue.
"I... I..." I let out an exhale when I couldn't find the next words, and I reached for the beer.
Turns out, it was definitely a better beer than the Heineken.
"You see, darlin'?" He said, not even waiting for my response. Then he blew me a kiss before whisking away with his drinks in hand. I watched him blend back into the crowd of similarly dressed men before turning back to the bar to sip my new beer.
The weekend was just getting started and already I was regretting having come. Random gay men don't buy me drinks at home.
"There you are!" Josh's voice came suddenly from my left and I jumped. "We've been looking for you for like ten minutes!"
My brother was dressed in even less clothing than the burly man who bought me the beer. His white jock strap, white chest harness and flowing white veil marked him as the blushing groom for our bachelor party weekend.
"What are you doing, hiding all the way over here?"
"I'm not hiding," I fired back half-heartedly.
"Yes, you are! The bar is for you to get drinks, flirt with the bartender, and leave!" He produced a bright white fan out of nowhere and clacked it hard on the last word. His gaggle of groomsmen all hooted and hollered at this. Each one dressed in a hot pink speedo with matching pink harness. The uniform for our group tonight, which I was indeed wearing, but still had covered by a pair of cargo shorts and a black tee, having literally never been so exposed in public before.
"Well I'm definitely not here to flirt with the bartender," I said into my beer, taking an embarrassed sip.
"Obviously," Josh said bitingly as he eyed my clothes with disdain, before switching tact. "Come on, big bro! You promised you'd be a part of the fun this weekend. You promised you'd try!"
"Yeah, Dan! Come on!" One of the other groomsmen joined in.
"Let's go, party boy!" Called another, reaching forward and scooping my nipple through my shirt. I flinched in response and the thin redhead giggled together with the others.
Josh put an arm around my shoulders to turn me away from his friends' taunting.
"Come on, Dan," he began in a sweetened brotherly tone. "It's just this weekend. Then you can go back to your Call of Duty crew or whatever you call those video game friends of yours."
"I just call them friends."
"Whatever," he said dismissively. "That's not the point."
I sighed.
"I know. I know."
"Ok, so you'll brighten up a bit?" Josh said hopefully. He hitched a searching smile that I knew to be sincere.
"I... oh, alright," I conceded.
"Yay!" He clapped his hands quickly and pressed his advantage. "So you'll take off these horridly straight clothes now, right?"
"Definitely not, little bro."
"But we're doing a whole thing!" Josh pouted.
"I have never been anywhere in public dressed like you guys." I swung my hand broadly at the sea of flesh churning with the music around us.
"Well then don't think about this as public!" He draped an arm around my shoulder again and gestured at the same crowd with the air of one fox showing another how the latch of the hen house worked. "None of those people know who you are. Isn't that brilliant?"
"How's that supposed to make me feel any more comfortable walking around in a bright pink speedo?"
"Because, big bro, that means you can play a character." Josh thumped me on the chest with that foxish grin, but I still didn't get it. My face must have shown it because he rolled his eyes.
"Tonight you're not 'Dan,' okay?" He sketched air quotes around my name. "Tonight - you're 'Danny'!" Jazz hands.
I blinked.
"What I mean is you have nothing to be afraid of with all these guys out here. You don't know them, they don't know you. You can be whoever you want to be and no one will know the difference! That's what queer spaces are all about. So, how about tonight, you pretend to be just a little more gay and a little less..." He waved a limp-wristed circle at me.
