West Hollywood has officially designated itself as the Come-One-Come-All Petting Zoo.
You see, I’ve always had an issue with WeHo — and with much of popular gay culture, which WeHo takes to a parodic extreme that lacks any smack of pastiche — and that issue is the fact that it is, through and through, an entirely separatist culture. It breeds it. Fosters it. Coddles it. And it is a major reason why many flock there: to ogle and oogle the WeHo creatures, albeit pretty creatures, who all eerily look the same, act the same, and behave the same. Though “parasitic” is not my adjective of choice, it was described as such by one of my friends who lives in Silverlake, which he nows refers to as “sadly WeHo East” after the WeHo’ers finally realized that MJs is a place for a good time rather than just for those who can’t afford to live more westerly (and what WeHo’ers still don’t realize is that, though they stand back with their cosmos and smile broadly at the fact that they have succeeded in making the the go-go boys less hairy, the crowd lack any form of previously-worn clothing, and switched the music to the taste of a 13-year-old, many miss the MJs that was indeed lower-class hipster scum. Looks like Mustache Mondays it still the way to go after all these years).
When you breed a separatist culture, you are hanging a sign outside your door that states, “Please, come in, mock me, and ogle me.” And The Abbey, the infamously overrated-but-used-to-be-amazing establishment that is touted as The Best Gay Bar in the World (don’t you love the superlative-like “WORLD”?), has exacerbated it by banning bachelorette parties.
Yes, banned. And in the name of equality (The New York Daily News‘s headline being the best: “Famous California gay bar bans bachelorette parties in stand for marriage equality”). The Abbey co-founder David Cooley attempted to put it in an eloquent way:
“Every Friday and Saturday night, we’re flooded with requests from straight girls in penis hats who want to ogle our go-gos, dance with the gays, and celebrate their pending nuptials. They are completely unaware that the people around them are legally prohibited from getting married… We love our straight girlfriends and they are welcome here, just not for bachelorette parties.”
This pseudo-rise-against-the-oppression statement reeks of one thing and one thing only: self-indulgent whining. Ogle go-gos? Dancing with the patrons? Celebrating something important to them by drinking excessively? That sounds eerily familiar. Oh wait, they’re called gay guys — who often, in their few instances of veering outside their own culture, go into straight bars, order cosmos when clearly one should order a Jack’n’Coke, turn off the rock and put on Gaga, and begin fondling women’s breasts because they “look so symmetrical” (that actually happened to one of my best friends, Shannon).
And to smack this ban with the trump card that is now becoming “marriage equality” is simply a tactless joke with a tad bit of misogyny thrown in there (it is saddening to me that a group castigates another group because they can get married — and even worse, castigates their supporters because they can get married). It is as if Cooley cannot control his patrons, control his gays, or control his business (if someone is interruptive to the extent of needing a ban, doesn’t one have bouncers or the simple ability to actually inform them of their offensiveness?).
Now, before y’all get your wannabe-wedding garters in a bunch, do not misinterpret me as someone who is not disturbed and massively annoyed by straight girls turning me into a pet toy — my rant about my Super Bowl party experience ended quite clearly with, “Dear World: I am not part of the international petting zoo for insecure, inept straight girls.” I know idiotic straight women, not quite enlightened in the way to behave around gays, can be annoying to the point of wanting to carve one’s heart with a spoon.
I get this.
But ask anyone in Long Beach if they’ve had a problem with bachelorette parties and I can guarantee you the answer is an overwhelming, “No, not really.” And when I spoke to a San Franciscan bartender just to see if he had an issue with bachelorette parties, his response was epically awesome: “What the fuck are you talking about? Why would a buncha dumb bitches have their bachelorette party here? Wait, that’s not gonna be on record, is it?” Just without your name, sweetie — and “dumb bitches” was his term, not mine.
Of course, I am generalizing and I understand that — but there is something to be said about the culture a particular area fosters. In Long Beach, I honestly believe we don’t have an issue with getting-married-females because they’re actually included in our culture. It’d be hard to meet a straight female in LB who doesn’t have some sort of regular, inclusive gay friends — and the idea that gays are something to be ogled at would be laughable to them since they were most likely at the Falcon just a few weeks ago.
What it essentially comes down to is this: I don’t have an issue with your ban, I just don’t want you parading it under some banner of equality. Just admit, dear WeHo, that it has nothing to do with marriage equality or some universal humans rights stance but the fact that — simply put — you don’t want too many women around. Whether it’s a bachelorette party, a random group of chicks, or an assortment of lesbians, you have some catty comment (“Ew, what’s up with all the twat?”) or some sort of annoyance (“Omigod, they’re dancing everywhere like us.”).
And this is okay.
Sure, it is seeped in sexism but the fact remains that it is true — you grew up around straight and you don’t want it in your face anymore. So own it. In fact, to all of popular gay culture: own it. Women are, just like the way you claim bachelorettes treat you, toys for you that must look good (you prefer pretty fruit flies over nasty fag hags), hang on your arm when you don’t have a trick (can’t look like you’re by yourself, can you?), and scant away when you no longer need them. So simply admit that this isn’t a matter of straight women being “completely unaware that the people around them are legally prohibited from getting married.” Please. It is a matter that they’re women — and there’s too many of them for your taste.
One Facebooker stated, “Until drunken straight sorority girls stop peeing on the sidewalk in front of the bar, I’ll take my business elsewhere.” Yet no complaints about the gays that do it on Santa Monica repeatedly. Another stated, “Ugh, there [sic] so annoying and im so happy they wont be around. I hate when they call me and my bf cute. So degrading. Your [sic] sooo cute. Ugh.” Wow, they can’t even call a gay couple cute? We’ll make sure that only men compliment you next time, princess. So again: this ain’t marriage being flaunted in your face — it’s women being in your space.
Because, after all, what are you gonna do when you can get married? That bachelorette ban is gonna be a tricky one to excuse at that point (and I assure you, you’ll still want the ban). So Abbey, instead of releasing a pseudo-eloquent false statement, just simply say out loud, “We severely miss our hyper-exclusive gay-cred where we didn’t see va-jay-jays in our face too much, so… Fuck off, women. One fag hag at a time only.”
Voila. Now you can face the real problem you have — not being sexist but the fact that you create a petting zoo and complain about it being a petting zoo — and possibly turn it around.