Mike Alvear's Urge & Merge

Mark Danack was watching the football game at his favorite bar, The Eagle, when he heard somebody yell, “HIT THE GROUND!” He thought a fight had broken out. The lights switched on and up to 30 cops were yelling, screaming and ordering everyone to the ground. The police had raided the bar.

“Shut the fuck up!” a cop yelled at one of the bar patrons who asked why they were being forced to lay face down on the grubby floors.

An acquaintance saw the police shove an 80 year-old man to the ground because he was moving too slowly.

“No questions! Do what you’re told or we’ll arrest you!” The officers threatened jail time to anybody asking why they were being held against their will.

The search and seizures began. Everything in everyone’s pockets was taken away.

“None of your goddamned business! Get back on the floor and shut the hell up!” Driver’s licenses were taken and put through a laptop screening.

“I said SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Three paddy wagons were waiting outside.

Nick Koperski was enraged. He knew he had done nothing wrong. Yet there he was, lying on the floor, face down, his pockets emptied. He had it better than some of the others, like Du-wan Ray, one of the bar’s managers. He was handcuffed on the back deck.

“I hate queers,” a cop said. Other officers–some plain-clothed, some uniformed– walked around the bar demanding to know who was in the military, threatening to report them to their commanding officers.

Sixty two men and the cops didn’t find a suspended license, a criminal prior, nothing. Not even a parking ticket.

The search and seizure uncovered nothing. No drugs. Not even a joint.

Finally, the men were ordered to leave but without their cell phones, wallets and other personal belongings.

Postscript:
Eight staff members were arrested and put in jail without bond. The charge: Dancing in their underwear without a permit. If it were not for the intervention of two Atlanta City Council candidates who contacted a judge who then set bail, the men would have spent the weekend in jail.

The lawyer retained to defend the bar said:

Anatomy of a Southern Sex Panic.

Boyfriends don’t bring happiness; happiness brings boyfriends.

From a reader:

I’m always pursuing guys that I can’t have and running away from guys that show interest. I’m a sad contradiction. I’m always alone and find myself longing for a boyfriend. Whenever hot guys do approach me I freeze up and can’t look at them or talk to them and they in turn believe there is no interest and move on. I cruise guys but am afraid to make the first move. I’ve lost out on a lot of hot men over the years and realize I have no one to blame but myself.

On top of that, I had one relationship over 14 years ago and he ended it. Since then, I’m afraid to open up to anyone. I think he’ll only see my flaws once he gets to know me, dump me and my self-esteem will suffer. I lost my job after that relationship ended, obsessing over him and feeling like I was worthless and am afraid it could happen again. My inability to open up to anyone has earned me a bad reputation in this town and many guys won’t approach me. They think I’m a cock-tease or just an asshole.

I’ve sought therapy before and that was a waste of money so I’m hoping maybe you have some insight for me. I read your column a lot and think you offer a lot of good advice. What can I do to get over these hang-ups and finally find the loving relationship I think I want? I’m tired of seeing others happy as life passes me by.

– Lost & Desperate

Dear Lost & Desperate:
There are lots of things I could suggest that would help you get over your fear of approaching guys or to make yourself approachable. In fact, I cover all of them in my new ebook, Attract Hotter Guys. But you know what? Save yourself the money—it won’t help people like you. Unless you have some fundamental sense of self—which you don’t—the tips and techniques in my book won’t do you any good.

I’ve said it a million times—boyfriends don’t bring happiness; happiness brings boyfriends. Unfortunately, the first instinct of unhappy bastards like you is to find something outside of them to make them happy. Even if you did find someone to make you, happy you’d end up driving him away with your unhappiness. So, instead of looking for bliss to flow into you I’d work on getting it to flow out of you.

Give up the search for a while. Stop wearing the T-shirt that says “Unit Available” and switch to the one saying, “Off The Market.” It’s only by turning off the 24/7 Boyfriend Scanner that you’ll find the strength and focus to do the hard work required. Namely, going back to therapy and sticking with it.

You did to therapy what you do in your love life: Seek, find and sabotage. So, therapy’s a wonderful place to start breaking the pattern. Plus, you’ll get lots of insight and straighten out the mess you’ve become. It’s a two-fer.

In some ways, I think people like you enjoy the complaining too much to actually do something about the sad state of your love life. A lot of men don’t really want a relationship—they just like looking for one. And what they’re looking for is a canvas to paint their unhappiness on.

If you spent less time bitching and moaning and more time working and healing you’d become happier. And then my ebook will help!

Gay men by nature are more judgmental than Christian Fundamentalists and the Taliban combined. Having spent over half of my life immersed within the culture, like an abused spouse with no real intentions of walking away, I’ve simply gotten used to it. You quickly adapt to what is acceptable dress and music choices. But the one aspect of gay life that still eludes me, leaving me as mesmerized as Jane Goodall observing a pack of wild monkeys, is the appropriateness of how often one goes to the gay bar.

It would appear that a line has been drawn in the sand. On one side are the gays that would rather vacation in liberal, free-thinking West Virginia before they’d step foot into a gay bar. On the other side are the gays that can tell you the drink specials at any bar on any night and which drag queen is hosting what and where. The two rarely cross paths, obviously, but when they do, who exactly has the upper hand in judging the other?

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