Despite protests that it is a horrible place and wry laughter in response to my invitations to join me, I went to a certain gay bar in a certain New England college town last night for a Halloween party. There were no fewer than three unicorns, two Catwomen, six Power Puff Girls, and two Rockys from RHPS.
My favorite costume was Carrie White as interpreted by a cute guy wearing just a pair of trunks, a tiara, a corsage, and head-to-toe fake blood. He was accompanied by a woman dressed in black carrying a Bible and a knife. They didn't win anything. Pfff.
The cop who pulled me over on my way home for having a tail light out sounded incredulous that I would drive 45 minutes each way to attend such an event. I wanted to tell him, "I'm from the Midwest. I've gone farther for much less."
Haiku for a Small-Town Gay Bar
Flannel shirts and beards
Back it up and drop it down
Massachusetts queers
An autobiographical short poem a day (except when I don't).
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