Tuesday, June 2, 2009

I Was a Leather Queen

Ever suddenly discover something about yourself and go, what da fuck ? You curse your denseness, totally amazed that it took you so long to figure this shit out.

I've discovered that I'm not into leather.

Why I ever thought I was... well, let me at least try to explain a little. When I was a young queerling and just starting to get the courage to go out to gay bars (there were only three that one could attend at that time), the huge two-story dance club, the leather/bear bar and the drag bar. At that time, young queerlings usually started out at the dance bar, so off I went ever Wednesday (dollar beer night) and weekend night for several months. I hated it. It was just like being back in high school, very cliquish. All the pretty gay boys stood on one side of the room, preening and checking each other's packages out. The uglies and average-joes (me) hung back in a dark corner wistfully peering out at them. I was a sensitive little thing and generally left the bar at closing time near tears because no one had said a word to me or tried to pick me up. The thought of me going up to one of them first never crossed my mind. Did I mention that I was very,very shy ?

There was no way in hell I was going to check out the drag bar. Drag queens terrified me at that point in my life so I decided to go to the leather/bear bar. Now don't get me wrong, I was scared to go there too. I'd heard all the stories about leather men and was totally afraid that they'd chain me up to the bar and put a sign on my chest that said, FREE ASS FOR THE TAKING. I walked in, nothing happened, so far, so good. I got a few looks but people soon when back to their draft beers. I grabbed a beer myself and stood by the bar, trying not to make eye contact lest somebody think I wanted to be their bitch or something like that. About an hour into that, they dimmed the lights and announced that an ass contest was just about to begin. An ass contest, you ask ? Well, it's exactly what you'd think. Men line up on the stage, jerk their pants down and if you like their ass you hoot and clap real loud. After the contest, men started talked to me, asking me out, asking me to dance and asking me if I wanted to come home with them for a little drink-a-poo. Wow, this was quite a change from the dance bar. There I was a skinny nothing, invisible. Here I was valued, preferred and sought-out. It felt damned good and the wannabe hottie in me sparkled. Thus began my lifelong association with the leather community, they appreciated me unlike those snooty dancing queens down the block.

Over the years I've had many close leather friends. I've always kind of wondered what was wrong with me because I'd shudder, repulsed when they'd go over the details of a recent sexual experience instead of being titillated. I couldn't by a long stretch imagine myself doing some of the things they enjoyed. I couldn't do that master/servant thing without giggling (where you have to call someone, Sir and they call you, Boy, Pup or Bitch). I wasn't turned on by the thought of someone pissing on me. The thought of that being done to me made me so angry, I wanted to punch someone in the face. Being tied up or held down while someone has his way with me also makes me angry enough to fight. And fisting ? Well, when guys ask me if I'm into it, I smile brightly at them and say, "Sure, but only as a top !" and that always shuts them up, quick.

And so many will hate me for saying this but very few actually look good in leather and yes, leather is a type of drag. If you look like a Tom Of Finland or Colt model, by all means, you should wear leather, often. When I was younger, I fell prey to the leather bug too. I used to wear assless chaps out to the bar. Yes, I'm very ashamed to admit it, but I did. What can I say, I was young and stupid and horny. Occasionally when I go out in Charlotte, older gay men will come up to me and ask me if I still have "the pants".

So, I guess you can see what I'm talking about. I'm not into leather. I'm very traditional. I want traditional things. I want a traditional relationship. When I see a man I'm interested in, I think about laying on the couch together watching The Sound Of Music and cuddling not how many different positions he can screw me in (I know, how boring,huh?). My friends are always telling me that underneath my gruff exterior, I'm a fifties housewife dreaming about a husband and a white picket fence. They may be right.

*Okay, to all you leather guys: I'm not saying you're all into watersports, rough sex, fisting and domination. I know the leather community to be a vast and diverse group of people. So if I hurt your feeling, I'm sorry. But I'm not sorry about saying that very few look good in leather. Some of you guys, just take an extra minute or two and look in the mirror really good before you head out to the Eagle. Wearing a leather harness will not distract from the fact that you have man-boobs, btw.


Geoff said...

LOL....I LOVED this post, right down to the "man-boobs' line! I was so scared my first trip to a gay bar....funny how that makes me smile now. You brought back some awesome memories! Great post!

badman said...

Great post. Thanks!

I find leather bars have older men and, yes, they have pretty much no attitude, so that's good.

Immanuel said...

Just reading this post now and totally agree. I do like that leather folks are not body conscious -- they accept all body types.

But you are spot on -- not everyone looks good in leather.