I have come to the conclusion that I need a sherpa to navigate the gay ghetto. I am so hopelessly lost (and on occasion uncomfortable) down there that I should pretty much turn in my gay green card and be done with it.

You're probably wondering where all of this is coming from and part of me is wondering it as well. Actually, I have a pretty good idea where it is coming from and it's not something that I am overly proud of. In my previous entry I talked about Steve from New Orleans who is in town visiting the city to determine whether or not he wants to move up here.

Friday night I took him to a New York City Gay Men's Chorus new member's social as he is a member of the New Orleans Gay Men's Chorus. When I moved from Florida, the first thing that I did was to get involved with the NYCGMC because I had just sung with the Jacksonville Gay Chorus and the cross to another chorus was, perhaps, the most natural thing for me to do. This way I was automatically introduced to other gay men. These were my first sherpas. These were the people who made me feel instantly comfortable in the city and helped me to get introduced to a few people.

However, in the close to five years that I have lived here, I have been to a gay bar exactly five times. I have never really been a bar person and, for the most part, have pretty much eschewed the thought of going to the bars. I knew I was pretty much in trouble when Steve said to meet him outside of Ty's Friday night before heading to dinner and I didn't know where Ty's was. The Dugout....forget it. I don't know why I didn't know where these places were (although I should have considering the fact that I interviewed at the Lucille Lortel Theatre which is on Christopher Street) but I didn't.

I think part of this stems from being a small fish in a big pond. When I lived in Jacksonville, the gay community there wasn't as large as it is in NYC. Therefore, I could go to the Metro on a weekly basis and always find someone there that I knew. Even if I didn't (which was rare) it was still a safe environment.

There's something ominous about a New York City bar. I guess reputations and myths about such establishments still reside in my Florida mind. For all of my pronouncements to my mother that NYC is not the place that she thinks it is, then why can't I put the bar phobia behind me. Maybe I need to find the bar that makes me feel comfortable and not like a pariah. Of course, there is also the fact that I abhor being cramped into small spaces with lots and lots of people.

The epiphany of that night at The Lure is still weighing heavily on my mind. I do need to put myself out there more. However, I need that level of comfort in order to make it happen. Going to The Lure with Steve made it happen. Now I need to make it happen for myself.