I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Back at Bennigan’s.

Winter turned to spring, and then spring to summer.

I was starting to live my authentic life.

It was the first time, that I’d been able to be out and proud as they say.

It felt as though a 1,000 pounds had been lifted off my shoulders.

There have been a million studies about the toll that hiding in the closet takes on a gay person’s mental and physical health.

The lying.

The scheming.

The pretending.

The absolute fear that you live with daily.

And that’s without the constant verbal and physical beating that many gay people take as they pass through life.

It’s exhausting to say the least.

It’s the reason that so many LGBT people become addicted to sex, drugs, and alcohol.

You truly needed something to numb the pain and get rid of the fear that is always just below the surface.

At 22, I breathed a huge sigh of relief.

The door was open.

At least in Atlanta.

For the first time ever, I was living out loud.

And it wasn’t just about being gay.

I was going to bars. I was seeing theater. I was trying new restaurants, and ultimately new food. I was being exposed to culture that did not exist in a small rural town.

Who knew brunch was a thing, when you grow up in a small, dry, town in Kentucky?

I don’t think my dance card had or has ever been more filled than the two years I lived down south.

It was part growing up, part going through my juvenile years as a gay man, learning to date and be an adult. It was also part coming to terms with who I was, who I wanted to be, and learning to accept that — warts and all.

The lack of fear that I presented still astounds me. I was bold and not shy, and would put myself out there in a heartbeat. I sometimes wonder what happened to that young man.

I’m far from through writing about Atlanta in the late 80’s.

Stay tuned.

There is more to come.