I also saw condom packets all around, for those who wanted them. The last room on my right before emerging back into the sling area was larger than the other small rooms and had a large window into the wall, so I stopped for a look. What was even more amazing was the racial and cultural diversity. But when I arrived the room was empty except for the DJ in his booth and the man behind the bar. It has a half wall, and, though there is a large open-air window into the space, it is somewhat obscurable by sheer curtain.
Most men were in their late twenties to mid-forties though. Almost casually, he grasped the hips of the man in the sling and resumed his pleasure. In the middle of the space is a raised platform for dancers, and there are poles for pole-dancing, and dozens of tables filled the room. Inside a man who had brought sex toys was demonstrating some of his goods on a couple of willing subjects, while a crowd of ten or so stood watching with more than simple sexual interest. A young, Latino guy, probably twenty-five was leaving with his friend, but on his way out he grabbed my hand, told me I was cute, and asked me if I would be back next time. Both the organizers of the Male Socials, as well as the Tennessee Social Club, were contacted for comment, but neither has responded as of this time. I followed the men, walking past the room they chose, to get a better look at the smaller, private rooms. We talked some before he went off with a friend of his looking for a playmate, and then I made ready to slip away. Don't misunderstand, I'm no prude: He also supplies snacks and has various non-alocolic drinks available. Or someone I did? Mostly there was a lot of watching over uninterrupted conversations about mostly mundane things: If you had asked me to describe the Male Socials before I visited, I would have described a large, uninhibited sex party full of unattractive men, to be honest. He seemed comfortable with the situation, and the men around him were watching casually, as if waiting. Some men walked around naked, having locked up their clothes and wallets. Then they hugged and said goodbye, calling each other by name. On the padded platform on the right side of this sex cabana, one thin man in his forty was having sex with a younger guy in missionary position, while another coupling of men was trading oral sex to their right. Men stood by open doors waiting for someone willing to join them in one of the small rooms. Even if they came in together in small, homogenous groups, the social barriers seemed lighter. I was really at the point of sensory overload by that time—in real time about twenty minutes after entering the building—so I hung out and tried to behave nonchalantly. I then descended a long staircase and entered a very large room. There was no crowding, no attempt to sidle up and get involved. I've been around and have even visited a couple of bathhouses, including the well-known Steamworks in Chicago. But then I realized the man was being arrested: People were friendly, not aggressive but definitely outgoing, and gradually, despite myself, I got drawn into a conversation with the men playing pool. There was a long hallway that opened up at the end into a more open space and another door to a well lit room.
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