You’d think that nightlife would be an enjoyable experience and something to look forward to, but that wasn’t always the case for me. Sometimes, not only did danger lurk in dark corners, but the fear of the unknown also played havoc with decisions.
March 1981
On one wet Saturday evening, I sat in my boyfriend’s car. Holding hands with him, we listened to the patter of the rain on the roof as we watched the raindrops splatter on the windscreen. For weeks, we’d both built up the courage to go to a gay bar for the first time.
The bar was out of town and miles from where we lived. However, neither wanted to leave the car and walk up the steps to the bar. Instead, we both sat there, trying our best to peer through the spattering rain and make out the figures going into the bar.
“At least it’s nice and warm in the car,” I sighed.
“Yeah, it’s too wet to get out,” my boyfriend responded. “We’d get soaked.”
We made excuses for staying in the car for the next half an hour. Even though curiosity ran through our minds about what was on the other side of the doors to the gay bar, we remained fixed in our seats while we continued peering through the windscreen at figures entering and exiting the bar.
“What if we bump into somebody in there who recognises us?” asked my boyfriend. “If there’s somebody in there from work, I could end up getting beaten up or sacked.”
Not only did those words strike fear, but I began to worry that if the police raided the bar, my boyfriend and I would be in serious trouble because of my age. We’d heard of police raiding gay bars, mainly in London, but it could just as easily happen here, too.
Although at 19 years old, it wasn’t against the law for me to go into a bar, I questioned if it was against the law for me to hold hands with another man in a public place.
Terrified of the consequences of entering a world where people would have welcomed and accepted us for who we were, we drove off and went home. Hiding who we were and how we lived our lives seemed a much safer option.
It would be months later when we talked about that night again.
“If somebody you worked with had been in that bar, wouldn’t they have been as terrified as we were at being recognised?” I asked my boyfriend.
“I never thought of that,” came his reply. “It makes sense, but it’s still a risk, right?”
Six years later, as I made my way on my own to a new life in London, I left behind a boyfriend who had been secretly sleeping with another man he worked with.
June 1988
Earl’s Court in London was the place to be during the 1980s. Gay men were attracted to the area because it had many bars and a nightclub, but, most of all, it was a safe area for gay men to hang out.
My best friend Neville and I were having yet another Saturday night out, but this particular night would be very different.
When it came to men, it wasn’t rare for Neville and I to be attracted to the same person. And on this particular night, we’d both clocked a handsome man who seemed to be making eye contact with both of us.
Neville made a bet with me that whoever ‘Catch’ (as we’d nicknamed him) asked out on a date, the other would have to do all the winner’s laundry for the rest of the year. How could I decline a bet like that?
I didn’t want to make the first move on ‘Catch.’ I hated rejection, but the prospect of having my washing done for the rest of the year was tempting.
But by the end of the night, neither Neville nor I would be doing each other’s laundry, as not only had somebody else swooped in on ‘Catch’, but Neville had been chatted up by somebody else. He informed me that he was ‘off for coffee,’ which was a code phrase we had for something completely different.
I found myself making the short trip home alone.
“Hi,” came a deep voice from behind me shortly after I left the bar. I’ve been watching you and your friend for weeks and wondered if you fancied going back to my place for a coffee?”
As I turned around, butterflies in my stomach started rioting as my eyes were met by ‘Catch’ smiling at me.
It wasn’t long before I found myself in a taxi on my way to ‘Catch’s’ place. He’d insisted I go back with him rather than both of us making the short trip to my place.
As soon we reached his apartment, I’d hardly given ‘Catch’ time to close the front door before grabbing him and telling him there was no time for talking. “Where’s the bedroom?” I asked.
An hour later, Catch asked, “Would you like a beer, Peachy?” ‘Peachy?’ Was he talking to me? “You can stay the night if you like?”
As much as I wanted to stay, I only wanted to get home and tell Neville that he’d be doing my laundry for the rest of the year!
Several minutes later, I grabbed my clothes and walked to the kitchen, where Catch was getting us something to drink. I realised I still didn’t know Catch’s real name. Should I ask or wait until he asks me for mine? After all, he couldn’t know me as ‘Peachy’ when we went on our first proper date.
“Would you like to make this a regular thing?” ‘Catch’ asked.
I had a fleeting vision of Neville doing my washing, so it didn’t take long to respond.
“You bet!”
“Good, I was hoping you’d say that.”
After a final kiss, which I never wanted to end, it was time for us to part, and Catch escorted me to the front door.
However, stopping in his tracks, he turned around and told me to wait while he wandered off, muttering about forgetting something. I watched as the man of my dreams disappeared back into the bedroom.
With my heart playing the drums in my chest, I thought I felt Cupid’s arrow strike my heart. Catch was probably writing down his phone number for me.
Then, it all started to go wrong.
I couldn’t take my eyes off ‘Catch’ as he walked towards me. “Here you go,” he said, thrusting a wad of money into my hand. “You didn’t tell me your fee, so I hope there’s enough. I’ve deducted a little for the drinks you had here. I hope that’s okay?”
Shocked, my jaw hit the floor, and I was speechless for the first time in my life! ‘Catch’ had mistaken me for a rent boy.
Still openmouthed and unable to speak, Catch pushed me out the door while muttering he’d recommend me to anyone looking for the same kind of fun.
I never saw Catch again, and nor did Neville do my laundry.
October 1992
“There’s a new gay bar in town. Shall we try it?” asked Shelley.
Even though the building was old, the bar was very posh. Shelley had been told that it served some of the best food in London. To cap it all off, the bar staff were some of the best eye candy I’d seen in a long time.
“Are you sure this bar is gay?” I asked as I looked around.
“Yes, why?” asked Shelley.
I didn’t answer her question as I was already making my way to a window table that had become vacant, but I was beaten to it by an elderly couple who had just walked into the bar.
An hour later, not only had we enjoyed a marvelous pub dinner, but the elderly couple by the window had asked us to join them in sharing a bottle of champagne as they celebrated their Ruby wedding anniversary. Shelley had struck up a conversation with the woman in the toilets. She and her husband had lived in the area for over 30 years and had been coming to the bar for most of that time.
Everything had been perfect that evening. As Shelley and I left the bar, it started to rain, so we quickly put on our coats. But just as we hooked arms under Shelley’s umbrella, two youths appeared, both holding bricks.
We watched in horror as they shouted out awful homophobic slurs and threw the bricks they held towards the window of the bar where the elderly couple were still sitting.
Rushing back inside, we were shocked to see the elderly couple we’d spent a lovely evening with covered in blood from the wounds they’d received from the glass of the smashed window. One of the bricks had also struck the man on his face. It wasn’t long before an ambulance arrived, along with the police.
We never saw the elderly couple again.
Months later, I was still blaming myself for what happened that evening. Had the bar not become ‘gay-friendly’, the elderly couple would never have been hurt. There were several other attacks on the bar before somebody set fire to the place one night.
One hundred years of history disappeared just because some people could not cope with people living lives differently from theirs.
Notes from the author.
I wanted to share these three nights out of my life because of the different aspects and emotions they produced.
I had many other nights out, most of which were fun-filled without incidents.
During the 1980s and 1990s, there were some areas in London where gay men felt safe when going out for the evening. But the majority of gay bars were in dangerous parts of London. Bars were often raided by police wearing rubber gloves because of the AIDS epidemic.
From the late 1990s, as attitudes towards gay society changed, going out became much safer. And as it did, gay bars sprouted up in many areas. Other bars saw the ‘pink pound’ as a way of making more money, so started offering ‘gay-friendly nights.’ One hour, a bar could be straight, the next gay.
Of course, ‘gay-friendly’ gradually became ‘all welcome’ as time went on, and although there are still many gay bars and clubs, sexual orientation no longer matters.
Since the opening of the first gay bar in London, ‘The Cave Of The Golden Calf,’ in 1912, not only have gay bars come and gone, but gay nightlife has taken on a dramatic change, not always for the better.
Next month: – Pride. Gay Pride now plays an integral part in the calendar, but in its early days, Pride was very different to how it is today.
If you enjoyed this entry, you may also enjoy reading, ‘True Stories: Gay Memories – The Day My Life Changed.’
Last month, In this series, the subject was Friends. Click the link below to read it.
True Stories: Confessions Of A Gay Man – Friends
Where would we be without friends in our lives? We all need them, don’t we?
As a gay man, I’ve had my fair share of both male and female friends over the years, but some of those friendships were not what I thought the true meaning of friendship was all about.
Meet Tasmin, Neville…
Please feel free to ask me any questions by leaving me a comment.
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So sad Hugh. I’ve heard many stories from nurses caring for those suffering from the AIDS pandemic. That show, It’s a Sin was fantastic albeit very sad.
Yes, ‘It’s A Sin’ was a brilliant drama to watch, Wayne. Very sad, but written so well by Russell T Davies. And now he’s back writing Doctor Who.
Hugh thanks for sharing these stories. I thoroughly enjoyed reading all three of your experiences. I have also had good and bad experiences, mostly good I must say. I can’t imagine what it was like living through the aids pandemic and everything having to be so hidden for fear of persecution.
It was a part of history that I’m glad I experienced, Wayne. I had friends who passed on because of AIDS, so there were many sad times, but the LGBTQ+ community seemed to come together to support everyone. I helped raise a lot on money during those times for HIV charities.
There’s something familiar about these stories, Hugh, and that’s not a bad thing. Indeed, it did make me wonder whether you were in the process of (or at least thinking about) putting together a book of these stories. They are both compelling and enlightening, and that’s no bad thing!
Hope all is well with you
It hadn’t occurred to me to put these stories into a book, Graeme. However, back in 2012, I did start writing a book based on my life, although it was mainly fiction. It’s been sat in a drawer for over 10 years, apart from this which I got a little help on rewriting from the readers here on my blog.
That is chapter one. I had good intension of moving on to chapter two given that chapter one was rewritten during the first lockdown, but never got around to it…yet.
Thank you for the feedback about how compelling and enlightening the stories in this post are. It’s of great help.
Just hopped over and had a read. A promising start. Whether you continue with the fictionalised version or do something that’s openly autobiographical, I think you have a project there – if you want it!
Graeme, I really appreciate you taking the time to read the first chapter from ‘Tales From Under The Rainbow.’ Thank you for the encouragement.
Thank you for this powerful share, Hugh. In the late 1960’s I attended college in San Francisco. One of my friends invited me to a dance at Glide Memorial Church. I knew nothing of the Church or the area, and I certainly didn’t know my friend was Trans. Walking into the crowded Church basement, I quickly felt very alone. This was my first exposure to the LGBTQ+ community. Then, like now, I hold all people with respect. Our loving God created each in God’s likeness, and our individual differences/identities reflect the vastness of our common loving Creator.
I can’t imagine what life must have been like for LGBTQ+ people who lived before the mid 1970s, Gwen. And it must have been so much worse for those who lived before homosexuality was no longer considered a crime. Here in the UK, that was in 1967. It’s very sad knowing that in some parts of the world being gay is still considered a crime.
I was thoroughly enjoying your story until I reached the brick episode! I’d truly forgotten how cruel people were back then. I was so lucky to be working in a large hair-dressing salon and school where we worked and trained with mainly gay men from all around the world – of course, it was colourful — in more ways than one ;) Sadly that was the 80s and I lost many friends to AIDS.
You never did say whether you accepted the money from ‘Catch’ ;) x
This wasn’t the only time I witnessed a brick being thrown through the window of a bar just because of who was inside. Many gay bars ended up boarding up the windows to protect those inside. Such a shame it had to happen just because some people could not accept that not everybody is the same as them.
I donated the money to charity. Although I never saw ‘Catch’ again, I didn’t really care what he thought about me after that first meet.
Gobsmacked, particularly by No. 3.
I do hope society has become more inclusive.
Thank you so much for sharing your stories, Hugh. They are very honest and enlightening.
I’m glad you are enjoying reading them, Jacqueline. Society has become more accepting, but there is still a long way to go. Let’s just say that I’ve lived a full life (with, hopefully, plenty more of it left).
Hear hear on all counts. :-)
Hugh, thank you for sharing the stories. My own journey coming out has been fraught with anxiety at times, so as I read your post, I thought of myself in the situations that you were in. I think the world is a better place for LGBTQ+ people than it was when I was a kid, but people can still be really vicious and unaccepting of someone who is simply different. I also clicked on your link about “Neville”, where I read about your different friends. I am so sorry that Neville passed at what I am assuming is a young age. Again, thanks for sharing.
Thank you for reading both posts, Michael.
Yes, Neville was only 32 when he passed away. Such a big loss to the world because he was always smiling and spread positivity wherever he went. I can still hear his laughter and see his smiling face whenever I close my eyes. I was very lucky to have had him as a best friend.
I agree that attitudes towards the LGBTTQ+ community are now much better, but it’s horrid to think that in some parts of the world, people can be sentenced to death because of who they are. There is still a lot of work to be done, but I’m proud to have been part of the fight for the rights of the LGBTQ+ community. I hope that by the time I depart this world, the world will be a much better and safer place for all of us.
I hope so too. The positive part of me thinks that it will indeed be a better place. Look how much things have changed in the last 50 years. And it does take generations to realize these changes.
I agree, Michael. Thanks again for reading and commenting.
Thank goodness things are different now. It was bad in earlier days.
I don’t really understand why people can’t accept others for who they are. It’s what kind of person you are that’s important, not who you are attracted to, not the colour of your skin, or your religion.
There’s so much intolerance and hatred in the world.
I completely agree with you. If those who spend their time spreading hatred towards others turned their attention to spreading love and acceptance towards others, the world would be so much a better place.
I enjoyed your stories, Hugh. I never could and still don’t understand why people can’t accept others for what they are. Years ago, (early 80s) my hubby at that time, and I were in Key West and went into a bar. When we walked in, we were told it was a gay bar, however, we were welcome to come in, though we’re not gay. We had a great time and went there frequently during our visit.
Key West, Florida, is internationally known as a gay mecca, attracting over 250,000 visitors annually. The city’s welcoming and accepting attitude has made it a popular destination for the LGBTQ+ community.
Key West’s motto is “One Human Family,” reflecting its inclusive and accepting attitude towards the LGBTQ+ community.
I know Key West well, Eugi. We’ve been there a few times and have always enjoyed our stays there. We purchased a lovely large vase in one of the gallery shops there and had it shipped back to the UK. It’s in our hallway and always brings back happy memories of our holidays in Key West whenever we pass it.
It’s good to hear that Key West still has an inclusive attitude towards everyone. I’m glad you and your husband felt so welcomed. If only all of our world could have the inclusive and welcoming attitude of Key West.
Thank you for sharing your stories, Hugh. My gay brother told me similar stories.
Times are changing for the better in most places, thank goodness.
It’s good to hear that your brother has shared similar stories with you, Jennie.
Yes, times have changed a lot, but in some parts of the world being different is still considered a crime. Let us hope that one day in the near future everybody are accepted and loved for who they are.
Honestly, I think we’re on the right track with acceptance, at least in America (and many other countries.) This is what I teach in preschool- acceptance of everyone. Thank goodness for Gloria.
The song by Laura Branigan? One of my all time favourites.
I love that song, yet I was referring to my classroom puppet who is very different, adored by the children, and helps teach acceptance at a young age.
That sounds fantastic, Jennie. What a great way to teach children about the acceptance of other people.
She really works, Hugh. Teaching acceptance is like teaching kindness, and #1 in my preschool class. Gloria has a journal for weekends with children. OMG! She has been to graduations, concerts, mountain climbing, trick-or-treating…and more. I wish every classroom had a ‘Gloria’ so all children could embrace acceptance. Sorry for the long reply!
No problem, Jennie. Long replies and comments are very welcome here on my blog. Have you ever written a blog post about Gloria?
My goodness, I have written many blog posts about Gloria. I can’t imagine teaching children without her. Thanks for asking.
Thank you for sharing these three interesting and diverse nightlife stories, Hugh. They show how you’ve “grown” and become more confident being gay, but they each also have a deeper meaning to them. From fear to funny (after the facts) to fright. I’m so sorry about what happened to the older couple you and Shelley spent the evening with. And, of course, you are not to blame. I do hope the police caught the youngsters with the bricks and they got punished!
We never found out if the youths who threw the bricks were caught, Liesbet. Sadly, CCTV was not as evident as it is in today’s world. And I never found out what happened to the elderly couple. After what happened, both Shelley and I were not keen on going bak to the bar. It’s sad to think that those who threw the bricks injured a heterosexual couple rather than the target they are intended to hurt. Fortunately, nobody else in the bar that evening was injured.
I often tell my wife, “Why is is so hard for people to accept that we’re all attracted to different people?” Thanks for sharing your stories, Hugh. Prejudice and hate are two of society’s ugliest traits.
I agree, Pete. It’s sad that even in today’s world, some people can not accept other people for who they are or how they live their lives.
Very moving stories, Hugh, on different levels.
Yes, very varied, Noelle. They tell a story of time.
These were very interesting stories Hugh! I thank you for sharing them with us! I really did enjoy reading them!
That’s great to hear, Carol anne. I’m glad you’re enjoying reading them.