jayjay, this thread you’ve started is stunning and enlightening. NEVER has any of this occured to me. I’ve heard of all sorts of things- I used to live in San Francisco, even- but I always thought of them, if I bothered thinking of them at all, as half a step above urban legend. I wonder if anyone’s ever come on to me, and my straight brain missed it?
I’m really puzzled by this glory hole thing. Ninety percent of the public bathrooms I’ve been in throughout this country have steel partion walls between the stalls that are about a half-inch thick. Even if you could make a hole in one, the edges would be sharp…and why wouldn’t the management plug them up when they find them? Are people bringing cordless drills in with them to make the holes? And isn’t it uncomfortable to have to have your face smooshed up against a wall while someone tugs on your junk while it’s shoved through a hole in the wall?
Well, yeah, ***now ***they’re made of 1/2 inch steel.
And Shoshana, the Ramrod wasn’t nearly the most “entertaining” place back then. Ever been to the Mineshaft?
They wouldn’t let me into the Mineshaft, though I tried.
Shoshana, was that due to being underage, or being a woman? There was a gay bar in Calgary that was particular about who they’d let in. I never had a problem due to the company I kept, but those doormen could be downright bitches.
Wouldn’t that be, “NOT fuck it?”
Well, my ignorance has been fought up to a point, but I’m still wondering what happens after you determine someone is interested. Is the standard to trade off, or what? I mean, what happens if you both kneel down expecting the other person to do you?
I’m not sure you’d have any way of knowing this, but I’ll ask anyway: was there any sizable proportion of essentially straight but very horny guys (not closeted) who’d do this just to get off without entanglements?
Gay sex is just as awkward as straight sex, so yeah. That happens sometimes. Usually it gets straightened out (so to speak) with a minimum of fuss, though.
As for the second question, there would really be no way to tell who was really gay, who was really closeted, who was really straight. So yes, there could be. But nobody but themselves would know for sure.
The Mineshaft was considered a “private club,” and the guy at the door (actually the guy at the head of the stairs) let people in or not, purely at this discretion. If you showed up there wearing a 3-piece suit, you would NOT be let in. Or if you swished a little too much, or smelled of cologne. Or if you were a total troll. Or of course if you were underage. Women were only let in for specific events, and they were rare.
There’s a lot of disagreement about this, so I’ll give you my own subjective conviction:
Men who enjoy having sex with other men are not 100% straight. Especially when they’re not confined in an all-male institution (and even then, I have serious doubts). I happen to be 100% gay, and I’d rather be celebate (or at least masturbate) than have sex with a woman “just to get off.”
I wonder if closet-lesbians have similar places for anonymous sex. Anyone know?
As far as I can tell, closeted lesbians are more likely to have Affairs. That said, the women’s bars I went to usually had a sign posted in the bathrooms that said “No Drugs. One to a Stall”. Both rules were broken. A lot. (Past tense - I’m married now 
)
“Straight” couples looking to pick up another woman for sex were fairly routine (and routinely ignored) as well.
OK, I hate to be totally clueless here but I want to know more about the signals. OK, so we have a matching foot tap. What does the hand motion under the stall mean? How do you respond to it? Does it matter if I do it palm up or palm down? Does it matter if I wave my hand back to front versus front to back? The police report was descriptive enough to indicate palm up/down, and the direction of the wave. Was he just being thorough, or is that significant?
Back to 2001? Heck, I saw 4 feet in a stall in that bathroom in the 1984-1985 time frame. At that time Royce basement, Powell library basement, and Ackerman Union 3rd floor were the spots, according to student rumor common knowledge. Powell and Ackerman got shut down when they installed half height stall doors. Maybe Royce is considered a landmark and can’t be altered.
Not so much–more like running an ad online or in the paper using the code words “must be discreet, not butch.”
Being a woman. I was too chicken to try to get into clubs and bars when I was underage, and I still get carded a fair amount even though I’m in my 40’s, on account of my youthful appearance.
I’ve seen multiple sets of feet in the stalls of gay bar bathrooms but never had the tiniest notion of being in a cruising area otherwise. Of course I wasn’t looking for it (I’m pee-shy and I will sit on a public toilet seat only when absolutely necessary and I can’t think of anything that would take me out of the amorous mood quicker than any smells associated with a restroom- unless it’s the sounds associated with a restroom).
Still, I’m always amazed at how wide this invisible culture is. There was a public park bust in Tuscaloosa a few years ago where several married men (including a 70something retired minister, a U of AL professor and the husband of another U of AL prof) were arrested and their names published. Totally ruined them (even though I would make Tucker Carlson happy by disavowing these activities, I don’t think somebody should have their lives ruined by it, particularly when they’re not public figures or public moralists).
There was a club in Birmingham (about an hour from Tuscaloosa, where U of AL is [and which has a gay bar]) that was particularly popular with gay frat-boys (an interesting subculture) who wouldn’t dare shake the glowsticks in the same city where they go to school. A couple of these guys had their fraternity letters tattooed on their hands and were of course homophobic during the school year.
I pity people who are this closeted. Even in the Bible Belt it’s just not that hard to find accepting friends. Of course for people who stand to inherit a lot more than I do there’s an extra incentive I suppose, but even so… damn dudes. While you don’t choose to be gay you do choose to have sex with strangers in a room where people take craps and to live a life that’s miserable when you could your own quietus make just by saying what more people than you probably realize already know. Just cain’t figger it, me.
I’d say go to hell, but I really like you. Instead, I glare at you.
So you guys are saying that one day, looking like a seventeen year old waif will serve me well? Here is hoping!
Well we can go ahead and glare at you right now if you’d prefer… 