Well it definitely wasn't a Church bathhouse, but what happened was still a
surprise for me.
It was 1973 in San Francisco, in the height of the sexual revolution. Thousands
of gay and bisexual men flooded the city on weekends to party in the clubs and
go to the baths. I was one of them, young, hung and in demand.
Right after college I left my East Coast religious family and community behind,
deciding not to start my gay life in closer cities like New York, D.C. or even
Chicago but chose instead to go to the West Coast, practically a continent away.
Well, I was far enough away from everything that I once knew and felt free to
explore gay life in ways that I might not have if I were stuck back home or
where I might be found out. Was never much of a dancer so I just stood around in
the clubs, drinking and talking to cute guys if the opportunity presented
itself.
Going to the baths was kind of an evolution. At first it was curiosity that
lured me there, then it was depression and sexual hunger that kept me there. I
was there almost every weekend and sometimes once or twice during the week. I
was hooked by the convenience, and it was safer than the parks.
Still, back in my mind I always told myself that this was a phase and I'd settle
down and have a real relationship some day. Why didn't I have a "real
relationship" that day, the day I was making excuses? Again, I blame my
depression and sexual hunger. Well they went hand-in-hand. But I guess that it
was the internalized shame from my family, church, and society that got me
started. Funny, they thought that shaming me was going to make me change but it
did the opposite.
So there I was at the baths one night, walking around and making brief
connections as usual. When I spotted a particular guy sitting in the TV room. In
between showing the porn flicks, they showed clips of "Gay Pride" parades in New
York and San Francisco. I had seen him there at the baths perhaps three or four
times but had never connected with him. I had never seen him go with anyone to a
room or having sex in the open areas. All this sparked my curiosity this
particular night. Who was this guy and what was his scene?
I walked to a spot close to him, catching his eye for a moment. I scanned him up
and down and then so as not to come on too strong, turned my attention to the TV
screen. He was clean cut, kind of church-boy looks and didn't really look like
he belonged in the baths. He could have easily been some unattainable guy I had
a crush on back home.
After a few minutes of watching the scenes on the screen and realizing that this
guy wasn't going to volunteer conversation, I made a comment about some scene
being shown. I paused, waiting and hoping that he'd respond. It took what seemed
like a minute, probably only a few seconds, but he did respond! We started up a
conversation from that point.
He was from Northern California, a small town northeast of the city. I told him
I'd seen him there before but never with anyone. He said he had met guys there
before but had not been active for a few months.
"That's interesting." I replied. "Why do you even come here then?"
He paused, and seemed to really thinking about giving a good answer to my
question.
"Well, it's tough" he began, then said in a lower voice. "It's religious… I
mean, I'm gay, and I love sex, it's just…"
My own heart was racing. This cute religious guy was gay and in a bathhouse. He
was just like me! No. I was just like him, only I had tried to forget it - to
stop the pain of being rejected. I wanted to know him more than anyone I had met
in a long time.
I smiled and chuckled at his attempt to explain things.
"Wow… I'm religious too."
He was totally interested in me when he heard this. We both talked for what
seemed like hours on all kinds of things, from our families, churches, gay life,
almost everything - right there in the bathhouse. I even told him that he was
attractive and that I wouldn't mind getting to know him, in "In the Biblical
sense…" to which we both laughed. He felt the same way.
We slept together that night. We both felt vulnerable and hopeful all at the
same time. We didn't know if we'd become real lovers but we hoped, and we tried
and that's all that mattered, because that is what worked from that night to
now!