Gay Pizza and Feelings

GCLS in Vegas was…very Vegasy. Bright lights. Loud noises. A lot of unattractive people. Despite my anxiety and general dislike of lights and sounds and people, it was pretty chill. Mostly because I got to see humans I hadn’t seen for the better part of a decade. Obviously there’s a difference between people and humans in this scenario. I like humans, but not people? I don’t know.

Most nights, we were with the same group, but Friday evening they had the audacity to attend a show they had warned us they were attending a month in advance. Rude. The wife and I decided to find a pizza joint (my pizza levels were depleted). I did something I’ve never done. I said to some friends “we’re going for pizza. You’re welcome to join us.” I’m not social. Even with people I deeply love. This foray into voluntarily inviting humans to spend the evening with us was strange. It became a cross between habit and compulsion. I invited more people. They said yes. It somehow snowballed into eight humans going for pizza.

When you get a group of queer chicks together, something magical happens. The gay concentrates. We’re contagious, you know.

Two people independently looked up pizza joints and decided on the same place. Six of us looked at a map, spun in delightful circles (to get in the map, of course), admitted we didn’t know where the hell we were going, and designated a guide (the only one who did know where we were going). We proceeded to go through three casinos, on four escalators, outside twice, inside twice, until we landed at the unmarked pizza joint. There was a dark hallway with a line that spilled onto the casino floor (is every piece of floor space in Vegas a casino floor? Yes? Okay, glad we clarified). Inside, there were counters to stand and eat, but nowhere near enough space for our shockingly large group.

Nell Stark and Trinity Tam coordinated ordering. This involved specifying that our group ended at the chick in the green flannel (lesbians, remember). Aurora Rey and I fought our way back out of the pizza place. We commandeered a set of chairs with a low table and set about stealing stools. Our party emerged, triumphant with pizza and pitchers of beer. The table wasn’t remotely big enough to hold the pizza box, let alone plates or cups or pitchers of beer.

This is where is gets gayer.

The next five minutes were the most wonderfully cooperative I’ve ever experienced. Two people started pouring beer. Without discussing, the recipients of said pour tilted their cups. Someone balanced the pizza box while two others plated pizza. Everyone, oddly, seemed to know what everyone else had ordered. Napkins were distributed. It was beautiful.

Someone (me) made a joke that we were lesbianing pizza and when we were finished eating, we would discuss our anxieties and talk about our families/coming out stories. We laughed. Thirty minutes later, we realized we were discussing our anxieties as a result of our families/coming out stories. So that was awkward (but also meaningful and supportive? Queers are the best).

The only point of contention, of course, was who would take the photo. Imagining a photo with only seven of us made for a rough thirty seconds. We were able to resolve the issue by asking someone at the next table to take it for us. Crisis averted.


  1. Wish I’d known your Pizza levels were low. I would have sent you to Giordano’s which was right outside our hotel. Oh well. Glad you got your gay Pizza on

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  2. My wife and I took a group of con virgins out Tuesday night before the con kicked off. We didn’t wander far. We met at Buca di Beppo inside Bally’s. There were 9 of us in all. After the initial awkwardness of a group of strangers who knew each other only because of a Facebook group, we hit it off quite well. That Buca serves family style certainly helped. The gay concentrated, as you say, and we were off and running. We didn’t talk coming out stories but we did talk about how we met our spouses/significant others. After dinner, several of us moved on to Tequila Taqueria for drinks. It was a good time.

    One of our group mentioned she’s a shy extrovert. I get that. She can interact with others just fine but it’s hard for her to approach new people. There was a lot of it going around at the con. She was glad someone else put a dinner together and was around to welcome everyone and get things rolling. That person was me; the seemingly extroverted introvert.

    After a career in the military and now working in a public facing position, I can talk to anyone. Then, when it’s time to go home, I retreat into my head, my reading, my writing and away from people. My wife gets that. She knows when to give me a little space to decompress and then recharge.

    Cons of your peers are great. They’re a supportive, insular environment. The nicest thing is being able to step on the elevator and go off to your room to hide when you need to.

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  3. I love this blog because it’s simple and direct, pulls no punches, and sounds like a really fun experience. I’m a typical reclusive writer, preferring to stay home and write or read or watch movies. BUT I would have enjoyed this outing. Thanks for sharing!

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