Advice From A Stranger

The world sees the Stonewall Inn as a historical gem, the place where the gay rights movement started. Many queer people that live in the city see it as a quaint place and somewhere for everyone to meet and pregame before going to another club. But I see it as a hangout place, somewhere I can go and catch a drag show or dance to music without worry.

Many of my fun adventures in the city take place within the walls of Stonewall. Everything from hookups to mistaken identity and more has happened.

And let's not forget the delicious drinks.

But this is not an advertisement for Stonewall. It's an essay about one particular situation and how it changed my life. There is no exaggeration when I say that this encounter really changed my perspective on how I conduct myself. And it starts the same way most bar stories do.

"What'll you have?" The bartender asked, barely glancing in my direction. Yet, he knew exactly who he was talking to and what card to charge. I want this superpower.

"Sex on the beach," I said. Something stopped me from making the obvious joke that people usually crack when they order this cocktail. It was one of many double entendres that went unsaid by me.

As he started mixing the drink, I took a seat at the bar and looked around. The crowd was on the smaller side but it was just after 6 pm on a Wednesday. I was supposed to be at my writers' group, but decided to skip the week.

"This seat taken?" An older gentleman asked with a pleasant smile.

"Nope," I answered, returning the smile. Part of me was confused because there were plenty of seats open, but something told me that it was important to hear what he needed to say to me.

And I'm glad I listened.

Wisdom From A Stranger

Once the bartender slid my drink over to me, he took the other man's order. Bourbon on the rocks.

"A classic, you know," he laughed.

I found it easy to settle into his energy. There was nothing intimidating or scary about him. Usually, I am a bit uneasy with strangers. It comes from years of being told that every stranger is a potential homophobe who wants to kill you. Thanks, mainstream media.

The conversation flowed easily. It was nice to be able to talk to someone without worrying about whether or not I was going to turn them off or upset them. Or if he wanted to hurt me. From the moment he sat down, it was clear that this man just wanted company.

He told me about how his partner of 30 years had recently passed away. The plans they had made before cancer took over his love's life and how they protected themselves from what they worried would be a showdown with the family.

"The day of the funeral, his mother came up to me and thanked me for loving her boy. Her tears made me start to cry and before we knew it, the whole family surrounded us. It was so cathartic to cry, with the woman who loved him as much as I did," the man said through a sad smile.

"I don't understand. She cut her son out for being gay, how could she possibly love him and do that?" I asked, my cheeks flushing with anger. It didn't compute that someone could have conflicting feelings.

With great patience, the man explained things to me. His partner's mother came from a time when being gay was condemned by many. She feared for her son's life more than anything.

Then he said the words that would change my life. "I love the fire within you, it will take you far. But don't rely on anger or negativity. Instead, use it to spread queer joy. Be who you are and be happy."

The Advice Heard Around My Life

After I left the bar that night, the man's words echoed in my brain. Once U came out, I had always made it a point to let people know that I am gay. Still, there were times when I allowed fear of being beaten up for my orientation to take over.

But no more.

After that conversation, I threw myself into being as gay as I could. There was no more hesitation about talking about my partners with the same passion that the straight people in my life talked about theirs.

I started to wear rainbow bracelets. This brought some homophobes to me. Rather than backing down, I stared them down and let them know they weren't going to steal my happiness.

"I don't mind gay people, I just don't know why they have to shove it down our throats," one guy said on the subway. When he noticed that I heard him, he stared at me like I was supposed to be intimidated.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize that wearing a 'Female Body Inspector' t-shirt was supposed to disguise your straightness. Though, I'd bet I've gotten further with a woman than you ever have," I snapped at him. His jaw dropped and he turned to his buddy. His buddy became very interested in the door opening.

They jumped off at the next stop.

The next time I went to Stonewall, I intentionally ordered a Sex on the Beach. And I made the obvious joke, the bartender laughed and shook his head.

Yeah, he'd heard it before, but that's part of queer joy. Making the jokes that have been told before. Being part of a community that loves and accepts one another.