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The Gay Bar Paradox
Last Saturday night, I was walking home from a movie with friends, followed by dinner with them. It was a perfect outing. It is ideal to have dinner after a movie. You can talk about what you saw while literally chewing the fat. I took the bus home, and after getting on the wrong one, desperately concluded the journey to my street with an Uber. I live on Karangahape Road, or K’ Rd, one of the busiest bar and nightclub streets in Auckland. While stopping at a pedestrian light, I overheard a conversation from a group of four twenty-somethings.
God, I just love Family Bar, eh? said one, a man. Should we go?
My ears pricked up at the mention of Family Bar.
Yeah. But didn’t a guy get beaten up there? replied one of the women.
Yes, I responded in my head, as I often do when overhearing conversations. A few men attacked him in the bathroom. It happened a few weeks ago. Everyone in the gay community heard about it. Yes - I wanted to say - He was beaten up. He was hospitalised. Don’t go there. It’s not a good place. Instead I pretended to not listen even more intently.
Yeah. Maybe? responded the man, I don’t know. Hey, but, I love that back part they have at Family.
Oh yeah, the garden bar? chimed a different women, That’s cool, eh!.
My little friends wandered into the direction of Family Bar. I turned into my street. They got so close to boycotting Family. I was disappointed.
Assault should not happen anywhere, least of all a gay bar. We gays specialise in psychological, not physical, harm. It lasts longer. That said, a physical altercation will occasionally break out at a gay club. But it will usually be fabulous, or theatrical, or funny. Everyone should expect to be safe on a night out. But Family Bar, which claims to be a gay bar, is evidently not a safe place. Neither is it particularly queer.
I always thought Family Bar had a great name. It has the irony of associating family values with a location known for adult activities. The name also invokes the sincerity of queer people being close-knit. Just look up the idea of “found family”. Family is operational to this day, but I would describe it as a gay bar in the past tense. The heterosexual people I overheard earlier now compose most of the crowd at Family. For any queer bar, having a majority of straight people is a spiritual death. Because if the straights overrun the place, what is the point?
I do not know much about the history of Family Bar and I cannot be bothered researching for this article. I only know that, before the attack, friends had to drag me there. Now I cannot morally go there. When you enter Family Bar, it feels like any cheap club in Auckland. And you do not feel very comfortable. Its floors, fixtures, and furniture are sticky with sweat and sweet drinks. The bouncers are hostile. The garden bar, I confess, is really good. So when it is my turn to drag my friends somewhere, it is to the nicer gay bar across the street. Unlike Family, going there feels like visiting friends.
Drink every time you read the phrase gay bar.
A gay bar is a public business. As such remains open to any adult who wishes to come in. At the same time, the bar must remain decidedly gay (Or lesbian. Or transgender. Or bisexual. What have you). Straight people are drawn to a gay bar for its unique atmosphere. Women in particular are drawn to “the gays”. And straight men will follow the straight women. However, when a certain proportion of straight people make up the crowd, it deters queer people from coming. Slowly, the queers seek a new place. This is the Gay Bar Paradox.
I suppose that over many years the Gay Bar Paradox befell Family Bar. It started out as a gay bar, but slowly it decayed and became a shell of its former self. The result is a place where the revellers are the sort of detritus you expect at any slightly dodgy New Zealand bar. And some of that detritus likes to bash people. This really spoils the atmosphere. This sort of alcohol violence is a known problem in New Zealand. Unfortunately, on any night out, you need to watch your back.
We can consider ways to resolve the paradox. One intervention is to limit the number of straights that enter the bar. However, businesses do not tend to do this in New Zealand. You can introduce gentle deterrents to make the place less straight-friendly. For example, making it very sleazy. I could think of several ways to scare off the straights. But when they flee, what are the remaining revellers left with? A cruise spot that serves beer? That sounds delightful - but some people just want to catch up with friends and meet people. On the whole, interventions are difficult for bar owners to implement.
In lieu of intervention, straight people could self-regulate. Instead of going to the gay bar every night out, go on occasion. This is a reasonable request. That way, we can all keep the balance of the Gay Bar Paradox. I have heard this work elsewhere. A Brazilian friend told me that in his country, the straights just know not to come. We need that here. Unfortunately the just does most of the heavy lifting before the know.
The Gay Bar Paradox stems from fabulousness. Fabulousness draws people in. Controlling for the paradox is hard. If the crowd at a gay bar is in perfect balance, it presents no problem. But when the number of straights reaches a tipping point, they push out the gays and spoil things. We do not want more Family Bars. Thus we either need to deter straight people from coming all at once or trust them to make the right choice. So if you’re queer, keep your local queer. Create an atmosphere to repel the straights, just a little. And if you’re straight, we are trusting you. Come to the gay bar, but as a treat. The Gay Bar Paradox looms large over any queer establishment. Let us keep it at bay.