Orlando
There is something about the safety and love of gay men. In 1990 I moved to Seattle. I was 21, alone and nursing some substantial heartbreak and disappointment. Capitol Hill/Seattle, 1990 - 1998. I had inadvertently moved to the gayest neighborhood in Seattle. Even better, I had moved into an apartment building with the best neighbors ever, homosexual men. Men who took it upon themselves to allow me in. We danced at Neighbors most Fridays. There is nothing like being out on a dark night in a crowded urban club full of beautiful men who love Madonna and Prince even more than I did. Dance and lights and drinks and sweat and the sexual tension between beautiful young men you could lick off the matte black walls. In a hot summer night of solidarity when a woman had the chutzpah to remove her shirt and disco wildly in her Maidenform, the DJ taunted her and tried to express how unwelcome she was. In response: her male escorts proceeded to remove all their clothing down t...