The Gay Bar Article
Written November 2, 2003

Gay people apparently aren’t into me. That’s the definite vibe I got during our adventure at Club Renaissance, Kitchener ’s haven for the sexually alternative and unconventional. I didn’t feel unwelcome or despised by any means, but rather just another human obstacle on the dance floor that a parade of transvestites and brash homosexuals had to circumnavigate in their valiant attempts to molest Bryn Boyce. My failure to show up as a pink blip on these fellows’ “gay-dar” was A-okay, however, as I was left in bemused peace to observe the bizarre circus taking place all around me through the fog and seizure-inducing strobe lights.

Surprisingly enough, Renaissance was a relatively comfortable and interesting environment for a straight person to chillax in. A saucy shooter-boy dropped by from time to time with a collection of diverse come-ons and a can of whipped cream, his adaptation of a stereotypical gay persona amusing in its familiarity. Less familiar were the assortment of convincing female bodies that frequently turned around to reveal a jagged nose or beefy jaw, a phenomenon which sparked many rousing games of “Name That Gender!” Watching transvestites play secondary gender roles was an interesting sight and their flamboyance and flauntiness was as entertaining as any theatre actor’s performance.

As I energetically and unabashedly danced around the club in a hazy stupor, I had the unique experience of not caring what anyone there thought of me. Straight club scenes typically revolve around image and impression and our antics would have earned us the disapproving glares of many a hooched-up wench at the Turret: “Oh. My. Gawd. What are those guys doing? They aren’t following the formulaic ‘white male no-rhythm dance routine’ and they haven’t looked at me ONCE!” Many of us noticed the distinct lack of pressure to present a positive impression for onlookers. To be honest most of the heterosexuals in the bar were locked in Phil’s-esque make-out sessions on the dance floor anyways, too busy to notice how uncool we were being.

Club Renaissance was certainly an eclectic bar, attracting an interesting and diverse patronage which unfortunately included several trademark Dirty Old Men. It was a surprisingly fun and unique alternative to conventional clubs, utterly removing the ‘mating ritual’ aspect that dominates the scene in meat markets like Louie’s and the Rev. I suppose Renaissance can also be considered a meat market in a much more straightforward sense, but for the straight connoisseur it’s a welcome chance to get out of the grind and peaceably observe a drastically different lifestyle while listening to some techno-remixed Prince.

This turned into the biggest Cord controversies of the year. Wilbur the Editor-in-Chief decided that it would be informative/interesting/weird for a bunch of us straight-laced editors to go to Club Renaissance, the local gay bar, and come back with some reflections and comments. With a whole bunch of mini editorials like mine, the feature came out to something like 8 pages. The K-W community and Renaissance staff were immediately up in arms, claiming that we were treating them like a zoo, 'observing gays in their natural habitat.' We also got a lot of shit for how big the feature was - lots of people claimed that we really didn't need to dedicate quite so much room to something of this scope. With a series of rebuttals and explanations, everything ended up okay. Definitely one of the more interesting things we did that year, all told.

If you're gay and somehow reading this, please don't hate me. I love you (platonically).