O.k., so, Friday night at Backstreet was too much to handle. It was, quite simply, the best time my friends and I have ever had at that sleaze bar.
To begin, we had all happened upon the bar early (11 p.m.) on a Friday (bypassing the Factory) because of the American Hunks traveling strip show. After we secured good seats, the show began with a raffle. Six people were picked to go oil-down the strippers…three of them were friends of mine. The night was off to a great start.
After the strippers put themselves together, the show began. Halfway through this country number, though, the power goes out. At first, we weren’t sure if it wasn’t a part of the show. But in the dim light of cell phones and cigarettes, I could see panic in their body language.
Soon, Norman (the owner) emerged, assuring us that it would probably all get worked out shortly and to sit tight. Then, for what seemed like an eternity, the most amazing bar experience that any of us have ever had took place.
Imagine a club (let alone a gay club) without loud music or lights. The impact that the blackout alone had on the bar was truly amazing. People that who you’ve seen all the time, but had never spoke to, were striking up conversations. In fact, the entire place was one huge conversation.
Twenty minutes had gone by, and Norman re-appeared, this time with the scoop. Some drunk had wrecked into a pole near Office Depot (on his way to this show, no doubt), and Norman didn’t know if it would be 30 minutes or an hour before the power would come back on. “So I guess drinks are free…” he then said.
Free liquor? At Backstreet? Woah. And you can imagine what that did to the clientele. I for one am partly responsible for the soda spray thing running out so early. They had carbonation for a while, but it soon fizzled-out. After a while, when I approached the bar, all they had to mix with liquor was pineapple juice. Mmmmm.
Also, adding to the madness, it didn’t take long for the minors to realize that they could get away with anything. Everyone was taking their shirt off (which is normal I guess), but this time it really was hot because, of course, there was no air conditioning. Cigarette smoke was also a factor.
During the blackout, the strippers eventually ignored their boy-band roots and started dancing individually on the various boxes and bars. A battery-powered boom-box was brought out, candles were lit, and things were slowly going back to normal.
All this time, Norman hadn’t been letting anyone else into the bar, and there developed quite a line outside (so I hear). Right before Norman was about to send us all home, and after two hours of this debauchery, the power came back on. Immediately the strippers yelled “the show is on!” And we all funneled back into the drag room for the entertainment.