— Originally published in Honcho magazine - May, 1996 —

SEPARATIONS

by Lefty Boylan (aka Michael Kirwan)

As the more astute of you readers have already surmised, the bulk of my articles are written after unsuccessful forays into gay night life. I'm usually drunk, disappointed, and rejected on the most personal level. You've all been there: you go out in a good mood, anticipating all kinds of untold delights, only to return with a vague sense of worthlessness, and sixty dollars short. Well, this is directed to all you guys who have wasted yet another weekend night doing the gay bar scene.

Tonight was not one of those nights that you call your long-distance buddies to brag about. In fact, it was singularly uneventful. But still there is something minor irritating you like a persistent itch. It's the fact that you've spent a ridiculous amount of money and time at a recently constructed, carefully planned, elaborately designed homage to gay desire, and still, didn't even see a single dick. What's going on here? I'm taking a piss, evacuating fifteen dollars or so, and there's partitions, barricades, and every manner of obstruction available preventing me from getting a glimpse of the cock next to me. Hell, I could go to any bus station any place on earth, and glance over and watch piss spurting out of another man's prick. I'd like to hear from you guys: are you as ticked off as I am by this phenomenon?

The older bars still have urinals adjacent to each other, you can get a decent view of someone else's dick if they're of a mind to exhibit it. But for the last couple of years I've noticed a trend, these newer, upscale bars have bathrooms constructed so that not only can you not play with someone's cock casually while pretending to pee, you can't even get a good look at it. The absurdity of it struck me when I disinterestedly wandered into a public urinal and got a cock show that you wouldn't believe (manual manipulation, cum shots, and mutual jerk-offs) and got several silent propositions to join my fellow travelers in a stall for more involved activity. Later, I went to a big-deal gay bar with some friends and was amazed to discover that these guys not only guarded their meat like it was a feature of the Crown Jewels collection, but even had I wanted to assess the treasures, I couldn't because there were ridiculous barriers impeding my view. What the fuck is this all about? Since when are gay bar owners so concerned about the privacy of their patrons' privates? Is this another one of those laws that impact us that we've heard nothing about? All of a sudden it's fine for straight guys to see each other's dicks while they take a piss, but us homos must be denied this casual pleasure and instead stare at a tiled partition. This sucks big-time. I'm calling for a boycott of all gay bars that have unnecessary partitions between urinals. We want to see dick. We're tired of hustler-dancers, quasi-porn videos, and muscle-bound bartenders that go home to their lovers at closing time. If we aren't going to hook up with some other trash-bucket for sensual thrills, we at least expect to be able to see the fucking prick of the guy we've been cruising all night. Is that too much to ask? When guys who you haven't even noticed stand next to you and pull out an impressive organ, and it can change your whole mindset, why are the bar owners putting up these barricades? I think that there are a lot of little adjustments being adopted (as if AIDS wasn't enough to deal with) to stymie our exploration as gay men.

All this piss talk reminds me of another comment one of my friends said to another. He goes, "I never take a shower at the gym. I don't want those guys seeing me naked." Well, then why the fuck are you wasting so much time pumping up? There seems to be a real streak of embarrassment and self-consciousness running through the gay community. Come on, guys. Whip out your cocks and let's get a good look. I promise it'll be appreciated.