Green Lantern

Sunday nights at the Green Lantern: where performing arts meets boozing and cruising, as it is the locale of choice for the Gay Men's Chorus of DC after our evening rehearsal.

Low lights, square bar surrounded on all sides by stools, no windows to the outside world; it's a cozy dive for those who need to hide, and also a stage for the divas who need their moment in the spotlight (that's right – karaoke!!!).

From Garth Brooks to SpiceGirls, these primadonnas (first ladies of the stage) take to the microphone to croon for a male audience of boys, toys, mares and bears. The bar splits in two: to the right, dancing queens (although older than seventeen – and no tambourine) who like to shake and shimmy it with all of their might, and to the left, butch bearded bear boys who are grizzly-guzzling their Bud, Miller, and Heinys.

It's the dichotomy of the gay experience – and where do I fit in?

I attempt a mix: casually sipping my Miller (Lite), a sing along gaily to "Loathing" from Wicked. What a strange exhilaration …

(P.S. If you caught all of the musical references, you belong on the right side of the bar)