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“This is so outside my wheelhouse,”Nari Yoon said. My best friend was nearly naked in her tiny bra and panties. Disgusted, she threw a heap of clothes on my living room floor. “Why, oh why do you think going to a gay bar is a good idea?”
“Can you please, please stop using ‘wheelhouse?’” I held up my hand talk show style. “It’s one of those damn words that is way overused these days,”I said. Then as if talking to an impatient three year old, I explained it to her, again, slowly. “I’m not making as much money on the straight stuff anymore. The old pros in the online forums, fora, whatever. They keep telling me I need to try a few male/male sites. I’m not a gay man. I just want to spend one night trying to put a finger on their tastes. The upside is that no one will hit on you. I promise.” Nari hated going to bars. A Korean woman in a straight L.A. bar was the heat seeking a million penis shaped missiles.
“Fine,” Nari said stalking back to my room. She was in. Thank God. I would not have the courage to do this on my own. “So what do I wear to a gay bar?” she yelled. I didn’t answer. She’d work it out fine. Nari did not need my help with fashion.
Twenty minutes later, Nari emerged from my bedroom this time fully dressed in a body skimming, grey silk mini dress with a stand-up collar, and some kind of embroidered flower down the front.
“Um, that kind of screams Asian,” I said. This was a woman who did not like to be boxed into a stereotype.
“I like the dress. My mom got it made for me in Singapore a few years ago. I never get to wear it. If no one is going to hit on us, then I can be as Asian as I want, capice?”
“That’s Italian.” I fished in my always full, Neverfull tote and pulled out the crumpled list I’d printed earlier. I looked at my watch. “So do you want to go to Big Fat Dick Friday or Fresh Meat Friday?”
Nari snatched the list from my hand. “Daisy Fletcher! Would you talk to your mother with that mouth?”
I shook my head, but the truth was that my mother would probably relish that kind of talk. She thought I was a prude. “Big dicks or Fresh meat?” She put a red press-on nail to her matching ruby red lips.
“Are they both in Boystown?”
I shook my head. “Nope. One is right here. MJ’s is on Hyperion.”
“That settles it. A mile drive is doable. Plus there’s won’t be any cruising on Rowena. Sunset is a bitch on weekends.”