Jason A. Heidemann
CITY OF BROAD, BUFF SHOULDERS Local gays tick Midsommarfest off their summertime to-do list.
Writer Nelson Algren once said, “Loving Chicago is like loving a woman with a broken nose.” Gay translation: “Loving Chicago is like loving someone still wearing last year’s Prada loafers.” We’re not an easy city, but we Chicago queers cling proudly and fiercely to our local identity. As part of our Essential Chicago issue, we looked at what it means to be gay in the city of big shoulders. By our estimation, you pretty much know you’re a Chicago gay if…
Your hookups are contingent upon the CTA.
How many times have we scored on Manhunt only to find out the dude isn’t convenient via public trans? Let’s see: We’ll have to take the Red Line to North/Clybourn, transfer to the 72, walk five blocks and—oh, forget it! Sorry, BigTool82, we’re updating our profile to “not willing to travel.”
You have Early to Bed and Tulip on speed dial.
You’ve all been there, ladies: One of your two cats vomits all over your Hitachi Magic Wand vibrator, or, in the aftermath of a painful breakup, she gets the Leather Texas Two Strap harness and attaching dildo. Thank God we have two outstanding sex shops geared toward girls. EtB and Tulip offer everything a woman or transman could want—and in a queer-friendly, sex-positive environment to boot.
You have Miss Foozie as a Facebook friend.
So many youngsters arrive in Chicago fresh off the boat from small-town USA. They know no one until they wander down a street called Halsted and see a pineapple-coiffed lady dancing on a bar with a twinkle in her eye. Miss Foozie is every Chicago newbie’s instant bestie, and the Bea Arthur of drag queens has several thousand Facebook friends to prove it.
You bring your light winter coat to Midsommarfest.
Brrr. It sure can be chilly in June. Just ask the throngs of lesbians and gays pouring into Andersonville come the middle of the month. The Far North Side’s queerest street festival is among the year’s best, but when the forecast calls for 58 and rainy, be ready to stroll those streets with a windbreaker and trusty umbrella in tow.
You can lead a guided tour of Sidetrack.
There will come a day when the doormen at Sidetrack video bar not only check your ID, but also hand you a visitor’s map. Boystown’s Magic Kingdom has just expanded (again!), and gay natives are required to know every nook and cranny so they can coordinate a meeting spot on show-tunes night.
You have an excuse for not living in NYC or L.A.
Yes, Chicago is amazing, but coastal envy still prevails, especially among us jet-setting homos. So when coastal queers pay us a visit, we simply roll our eyes at the cost of living in Manhattan or the strip-mall culture of L.A. They believe us, right?
You can withstand subzero temps in a T-shirt.
Winter be damned. There’s no way we’re checking our coats (and hats, gloves, scarves and sweaters) at Spin, then dolling ourselves up all over again just to walk up the street to Scarlet. In this town, you have to be able to sprint from Circuit to Hydrate in the depths of winter clad only in a fitted mesh tank top, and look completely nonchalant while doing it.
You’ve placed a Craigslist missed-connections post that includes the words Red Line, Xsport or Bally’s.
We can map out gay Chicago just by reading Craiglist subject lines: Note every mention of a CTA line or one of our friendly neighborhood gyms’ steam rooms or saunas. But word to the wise—be specific. Ads that read, “You were the hottie on the El this morning” only narrow it down to, like, a zillion people.
You’ve “never” been to Steamworks.
Poor Steamies. How does it manage to stay in business? Not a single person we know has ever been to this Boystown bathhouse. We hear there’s a workout room, sauna, whirlpool, video porn, private rooms, a lounge and more (wink-wink). But we wouldn’t know because we’ve never been there. Have you?
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