Emmanuel, cosmopolitan boi that he was, was becoming lonely of late. He still frequented his usual haunts, errant impersonal coffeebars, bookstores, independent record vendors... the like. He knew exactly what pixie faces he would see... he'd already had his choice between most of them, and there would be no surprises there... he was a pretty fag... the metr...
Donnies. The name had a reputation to it. A gay bar in an industrial part of town with a dark side. Having been on the fringes of the gay community I had heard the name but had not had the courage to visit. A few drinks with an old friend changed that. The old friend wasn't gay. We meet occasionally to catch up, talk politics, sports, life . . . the usual...
The best thing about this story, is it's totally true. I was visiting New Orleans for a weekend in 1998, when a hurricane blew into town. Between the driving rain and the drinks from the bars, I was hopelessly turned around and to be quite honest, I was drunk. The kind of drunk that makes you forget you're walking in the rain, or for that matter, care that...