I’d like to speak to the manager!!!

Gay Pride Edition!

The summer of 1984, I worked at Wendy’s in North Park.  It was an awesome job, making $3.35 an hour, that I saved,to pay for college each semester.  Yes, it paid for college, with the bare minimum of loans.  

We were open late, and often got a crazy late crowd.    

One night a car drives thru, I’m working the drive thru.  It pulls up to the window, and I tell them the charge will be 9.76.  The driver pays me cash, and we chat while he waits for his order to be ready.  

The chatting becomes flirting, and then he forwardly asks me what time I’ll be off work.  I tell him around 1:00.  He says, he’ll come back then.    

And he did.  

And we dated for about 6 minutes.  Yes, minutes.

And I use the term dating loosely.  

I would drive to Lexington to meet him at closing time at the Video Village that he worked at on New Circle Road.  Fun fact, turns out my friend Todd Lacy, also worked at that store, with this guy.  I found this out about 8 years later.  

I also saw him long enough for me to meet his drag queen roommate, who was very funny, very gregarious, and very sweet.  I’m pretty sure she was the first drag queen I ever met.  

After about 6 minutes, he told me that he didn’t think it would work out.

I was very hurt.  For about 3 days.  

Then I moved on with my summer. 

Fast forward to the fall of 1984.  

I pledge a fraternity at my very conservative, liberal arts college.  

And why did I pledge a fraternity.

Because living in the dorms, meant always watching your back to see if someone saw you drinking.  Or someone saw you out late.  Or someone saw you doing anything that the Bible deemed sinful.    

I pledged the Phi Kappa Tau fraternity.  

And thus started the pledges life.  

Just before Christmas break, the windows of the house were covered with newspaper.  We brought ou mattresses from our dorms.  

And hell week started.  

What happens in hell week is super top secret, so if I told you, I’d have to kill you.  

One thing we did, was have a scavenger hunt.  Get a menu from here.  Get a ticket stub from there.  

Get the autograph of a bartender at Johnny Rockets, the gay bar in Lexington.  

Fun fact, the big gay bar in Lexington has been in this location for decades.  Its right next door to the police station.  And the city has tried for years to buy the building, but the owner has never budged.  

So there we were, driving all over Lexington collecting our souvenirs.  

And it’s time to go into the bar.  

I volunteered along with one of my pledge brothers, but I don’t remember who.  

We walk in, and approach the bar.  

I go up to the bar and wait for the bartender.

I look to my left and I see my friend’s drag queen roommate.  

She smiles.

I smile, while saying a prayer that she doesn’t acknowledge knowing me.  

She’s not dumb, and plays a long.  She says something sassy, and winks at me.  

We get our autograph and go on with our evening.  

I was very grateful that she did not out me.  

It was my first time in a gay bar.  

But certainly not my last.