For my husband’s birthday this year, we road-tripped to our favorite little queer oasis in the Arkansas Ozarks. That may sound like an oxymoron, but Eureka Springs is the funkiest, spookiest and, yes, gayest little hamlet in the Bible Belt.
Among the churches and haunted hotels, the town boasts a surprising number of queer-owned inns, bars and other businesses, including an impressive nightlife scene for a town of about 2,000. Its location, hemmed in by conservative towns and swarming with motorcycles, probably explains why that LGBTQ+ enclave draws so many straight people. And for the most part, it’s a harmonious affair, even in loud-and-proud spaces like Eureka Live, where straight men are good sports with jesting drag queens.
As I said, “for the most part.” No matter how harmonious a gay bar may seem to be, there’s still etiquette that straight men should know.
Eureka Live is a prime example, because it attracts all walks of life, from queer people and drag queens, to accepting parents, curious road-trippers and gal pals with obliging boyfriends. The subterranean bar is routinely mobbed on weekends with wall-to-wall patrons who come for some of the best drag performances I’ve seen, complete with elaborate costuming and choreography, and just the right amount of sexy sass.
In my handful of visits, I’ve seen more straight men here than at almost any other gay bar. You can spot them through the laser lights. They’re often there with their girlfriends, either hooting and hollering if other bros are present, or slinking into the shadows to avoid detection from the hawk-eyed queens (heads up, this tactic only puts more of a spotlight on you).
You’ll find gay bars virtually anywhere, and they’re almost always a good time, no matter your preferences. Still, there are some rules, especially for novices or tourists (read: straight men). So, if that’s you, welcome — here’s what you need to know.
You Are Welcome, But Respect Is Needed
This one goes out to the awkward dudes at Eureka Live, hamming it up with their buddies and spraying cash across the dance floor like sprinklers. I want to say that straight men are, of course, welcome in gay bars. I’m not here to gatekeep. Anyone is welcome in our house, but respect is needed. Gay bars — no matter how raucous or wild — aren’t theme parks or circuses that exist for your entertainment. If you show up, whether you’re with your buddies or your girlfriend, don’t treat these spaces, or these performers, as something to gawk or laugh at. Gay bars have long been vital sanctuaries for queer people, and no matter how normalized they’ve become, that history remains. It’s also worth acknowledging that drag is art, and drag is a lot of work. So tip appropriately, and don’t just tip the queens who are femme-presenting enough for you either. Another source of conflict I’ve seen is how some straight men handle respectable advances; if a gay guy buys you a drink, or tells you you’re handsome, it’s ok to accept the compliment — and even the drink — while politely declining. No one is here to harass you, or offend you, so there’s no need to escalate anything. By all means, have fun with the queens, and have fun at the bar, but leave your judgments at the door.
The Definition of “Gay Bar” Has Changed
This may genuinely come as a surprise, especially to straight men who’ve never set foot in one, but not all gay bars are the same. In fact, just like any bar, they can be wildly different. The most recognizable ones look a lot like Eureka Live, with its neon-lit dance floor, salacious drag queens and “Slut Juice” shots. But other bars might swap “Slut Juice” for an esoteric wine list, craft beer made on-site or a stiff whiskey pour.
For every clubby gay bar, there are alternatives like Juice, an LGBTQ+-owned Jacksonville wine bar that feels like a maximalist library, where Steinbeck novels share shelves with books like Being Gay. Or Red Bear Brewing Co., a gay-owned brewery in D.C. where customers can watch NFL games or Drag Race, or The Round-Up Saloon, a historic Dallas honky-tonk that offers line dancing lessons and go-go boys in a welcoming — and fun — place where cowboys, cowgirls and cowqueers can two-step together and let loose. I could go on, from gay cocktail bars like Bar Polari in North Charleston, to the gay cabaret at Mad Myrna’s in Anchorage. Of course, there are also leather bars, fetish bars and gay bathhouses, but I’ll leave that for lesson two. Suffice to say there isn’t a cut-and-paste template for gay bars, and straight folks shouldn’t assume they’re even remotely the same. For those visiting a gay bar for the first time, rest assured that you can find a space aligned with your interests and comfort levels — hey, just like “regular” bars!
The point is, there isn’t a set rubric for gay bars; with so much variety nowadays, there truly is something for everyone, no matter where you fall on the LGBTQ+ spectrum, or don’t.
That Grungy Dive Bar? It Might Also Be a Gay Bar
This is more of a hot-take observation, but one that I think straight men would appreciate. Over the past couple years, my husband and I have mostly migrated away from clubbier gay bars toward more subdued and diverse spaces, like the aforementioned wine bars and brewpubs. Dive bars, though, have become our favorite havens. Often historic and frequently cornerstones of their communities, they have an enduring, unpretentious appeal that draws the kind of crowd we love about places like Eureka Springs. This is something that’s evolved over the years; as gay bars change and niche bars close, like those catering to lesbians, the spaces that cater to more diverse audiences — like dives — absorb some of those patrons. Heck, some dive bars are straight-up (pun intended) gay.
In Guerneville, a historically queer town in the redwood forests of Sonoma County, Rainbow Cattle Co. is a decades-old saloon that’s decidedly a gay bar, yet draws the mixed crowd of a classic dive. In my hometown of Manchester, New Hampshire, Breezeway Pub is a relaxed watering hole where you’re more likely to see a guy hanging out with his dog, rather than picking someone up. And here in Oklahoma City, when my husband and I visit the gay bars in the 39th Street Entertainment District, we opt for Tramps, the oldest gay bar in Oklahoma, and a diverse dive with just the right amount of grunge.
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Don’t Be Shy (But Don’t Be a Jerk Either)
I recognize that, especially for straight men who may have never been to a gay bar, it can be intimidating. Misconceptions abound, and some assumptions are genuinely off-putting. After all, one of the oldest homophobic tropes in the book is the old “I don’t have a problem with gay people, as long as they don’t hit on me,” usually said by the least eligible man in the room. Rest assured, you’ve got nothing to worry about — for the most part.
Start with a vibe check. If you’re shy or awkward, you might fall prey to a drag queen, who could pull you up on stage to inadvertently traumatize you forever (something I often witness at places like Eureka Live and The Boom in Oklahoma City). If you’re a loud, swaggering hot-head, you’ll probably get eye rolls and stares — something I’ve side-eyed plenty at Palm Springs’ more “straight-looking” gay bars (read: bachelorette parties aplenty), like Chill Bar and Hunters. Worse, if you’re the type of guy to degrade go-go dancers at The Round-Up Saloon, or feel up a drag queen without consent, you’ll likely get kicked out, or even banned. No matter if you’re going solo, with a girlfriend or with a group, it’s okay to think of gay bars like any other bar. Yes, a lot of these spaces have important history, and remain sanctuaries for many, but there won’t be any pop quizzes on queer history at the door. Go have a good time, maybe see a show and relax. It’s as simple as that.
We have a straight male friend here in Oklahoma City who genuinely prefers gay bars over straight bars, because they’re less pretentious and more fun, and the fact that he wears cargo shorts is a natural deterrent from getting hit on. We have another friend, in Rapid City, who loves dive bars, but has talked fondly about his times at gay bars. His verdict was essentially: fine, normal, no complaints. When guys have bought him drinks, he simply raises a glass in thanks and tells them he’s not gay, and that’s the end of the story. And as someone who has never once been bought a drink in any bar, I can attest: it doesn’t happen as often as you’d think.
Let Loose and Lean Into the Fun at Drag Brunch
If you’re a straight man who has never been to a gay bar, a drag brunch is a good place to start. Earlier this year, we went to a drag brunch at The Boom in Oklahoma City with a group of my husband’s car friends — a mostly straight crew. The outing was organized by a straight man, and our table was mostly straight, girlfriends included. The crowded room was similar, ranging from friends to families, all turned out for one of The Boom’s famous shows. Straight people attending drag brunch is nothing new, and often they outnumber the queer people, drawn to the mix of comedy, camp and comfort food in group-friendly settings. What I’ve seen, though, at The Boom and elsewhere, is that some straight guys are still visibly uptight, as if afraid they’ll be yanked onto stage, or made the butt of a joke. As long as you’re open-minded and okay with a little harmless banter, you can relax. At brunch, drag queens are sassy and interactive with the crowd, but with everyone seated and eating, the odds of getting pulled onstage drop considerably. Daytime also means decidedly more PG. The “worst” that happened was a queen asking one of our friends if he was straight or gay, and then making a sausage-related joke. It was over in 10 seconds. I’ve done drag brunches all over the country, from R House in Miami, which has genuinely incredible Latin food, to The Country Club in New Orleans. You’re never far from a sausage-related pun, but you can breathe easy knowing that’s about as “awkward” as it’s gonna get.
Tip All Your Queens Equally
On that note, whether it’s brunch or late-night, always remember to tip your drag queens. And by that I mean all your drag queens. One of the most egregious faux pas I’ve seen, as I cited earlier, is straight guys who only tip the more femme-presenting queens; the ones who are “sexy enough,” that they forget they’re (mostly) men. I’ve seen this too many times, and it’s cringe-y when straight guys act like it’s an affront to their masculinity for a drag queen to have a beard.
Also, it’s important to acknowledge the hard work — and expense — that queens put into their craft. It might look campy or silly to some, but make no mistake: the work, heart and money that goes into drag is no joke. They’re sourcing and stitching their own outfits, styling their own wigs and choreographing their own dance numbers. And they’re rarely paid what they’re worth, especially when you factor in hours of emceeing on top of it. So before you go to a gay bar for a drag show, stock up on singles and be ready to tip. What you don’t want to do is behave like a demeaning man-child, like some of the guys I’ve seen at Eureka Live, and just hurl money at the stage, or only tip certain queens, muting your applause when a butch queen takes the stage. And if the “worst” should happen and you get pulled on the dance floor for a bit of ribbing, be a good sport and lean into the fun. Drag queens aren’t here to degrade you or publicly humiliate you (unless you deserve it), and they’ll commend you for trying, even just a little bit.
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