By StevieB
Sunday afternoons during the summer mean warm long shadows as the sun
takes its sweet time to set. For me it means heading over to our local
bear bar for Beer Bust. A longstanding tradition of beers, beards, and
buds. You can tell the beer bust is in high season by the metal cattle
fencing surrounding the bar’s parking lot turned play space for the
bears, otters, and other animal themed male homosexuals. This really is the time to connect with old friends. I get to have a couple quality hours without the pressure of everyday life; it’s less about hanging out in a bar and more about hanging out with friends. Old and new.
This last Sunday I had the chance to spend time chatting with a good friend I met way back in 2004 when I first moved back to Denver. I consider him a long-time bud. We were given some time to catch up on our lives, flirt a little, and generally spend time enjoying each other’s company. Please don’t ask me his name. I can’t remember.
Moving from Dallas to Denver was pretty traumatic. Leaving the gay ghetto, they had to peel my fingers from the door jamb of my beloved gay gym. When settled in Denver the first thing I did was to sign up at Denver’s small gay club, Broadway Bodyworks. This helped the decompression to a city without a centralized gay neighborhood. Around this time was when I met ___. We started to match our workout times to get more gym hangout time. We have been great buds ever since. Well, all but that small part where he greets me with “Hey! Steve! How’s it going?” And I once again, have to stumble over saying hey…. handsome. It’s been 8 years, how frickin horrible is it that I can’t remember his name.
Yes, I have tried all the games of introducing him to other friends, yet it seems that his name never comes up. “This is my good friend________. We’ve known each other since ’04.”
Maybe I should ask him to friend me on Facebook?
This post originally appeared on Steven Bennet's website Nice to See StevieB. Republished with permission.
