Where Have All the Good Men Gone? | by Art Hake

Men are pigs. But face it: we like bacon!

And I’m missing some old-fashioned stinky fun. It’s Thursday so I went out with fellow hunters to Hamra. Bardo is always a nice destination, especially on weeknights. It felt good to see some European faces around: music was fun (although their sound system would really use an upgrade) and drinks were pouring in. I was hoping to catch a flirtatious glimpse, but I guess it was too crowded for that: I could barely see beyond an elbow stuck in my face all night. Oh well, Basement then? Why the hell not!

Many familiar GiBs there, undertwenties mostly, thrusting their dear selves to the beats. GiB#2 would’ve appreciated the company, but nothing interesting for me tonight in that club. One hour of exposure is enough anyway, so we’re off to some greener grass. Behind the Green Door, no pun intended! But first, we had to cross Gemmayze Street, which was overwhelmed with stuck-up straight men and under-dressed women. Let’s not be judgmental. I mean we all know how hard they try. The man-to-woman ratio is becoming scary: 7 Eves for every Adam. We share the frustration, sista’.

And we leave you unchallenged access to the stuck-up straight men. You kinda always preferred the wedding material anyway. Which brings me back to my own frustration: where have all the good men gone?

Many colorful shots beyond this point, surrounded by a hetero-friendly company behind the damn door, I realized I was going home alone.

At least the holidays are coming; we’ll have plenty of time to catch up with the returning brothers. Can’t wait ‘til Christmas! Meanwhile, I think I’m gonna throw a desperate look at Manjam.