Not So Warm Leatherette

It's probably a good thing I'm both too exhausted to venture out, and my bank balance is a bit weak. A cosmo here, a shot there would be a welcomed treat this weekend; but the reality of the event almost never lives up to the fantasy.

Believe me, I tried.

Once, while living in Chicago, I ventured out to the Chicago Eagle. "The Mecca of Manhood", I thought to myself.

And while some of the patrons and *ahem* events going on inside certainly made my voyeuristic trip worthwhile; I almost turned around and went home after being greeting by a three hundred pound doorman in a greasy t-shirt with strategically placed nipple-breathing holes.

And a voice Mariah Carey would envy.

See Tarzan, hear Jane. The man sounded like he sucked down a tank of helium. Poor dear.

That's not to say Cleveland doesn't have a thriving leather scene full of manly men; it certainly does. I've met quite a few fetish following fellows since my arrival.

I thought about having a drink after work this evening. I thought about calling David and asking him to join me in tossing back a few shots of scotch from a safe, dark (and very distant) corner.

Then I looked out the bus window and saw two masculine looking men clad in leather from head to toe. Caps, vests, chaps, boots.

And pink tutus.

There's always tomorrow night.

This entry was posted by Frankie, on 4.28.2007. You can leave your response.