The gay community has a very special way of celebrating the Lord's Day. It usually involves slutty dancing, Technicolor drinks and gaudy decorations that should only be found inside Charo's closet.
Enter Urban Mo's (308 University Ave.), the Hillcrest institution where good Facebook reputations come to die, and Detour, an early-evening dance party, happens every Sunday.
With “Where there's always a happy ending” as a motto, Detour is like a modern, queer version of the Roman Coliseum: Many enter, but few leave (sober, at least). So, my good friend Gusti and I got some pre-game liquid courage from a bottle of Sutter Home white Zin and promised to look after each other—we were ready to take the bull by the horns.
“Get it! Get it!” some RuPaul's Drag Race reject shouted as she repeatedly slapped my ass as we entered.
At the bar, I feasted my eyes on the locale's newest Frankenlibation: Gone Fishin', a $17 fishbowl containing two Adios Motherfuckers, a couple of straws and a plastic fish.
“Steer clear,” advised my bartender, donning a T-shirt explaining the ins and outs of Limp Wrist Syndrome. “It's bad news—you don't want that.”
Heeding his warning, I instead got lost in the umpteenth Rihanna song played in a row and finally decided what my tombstone should say: “Sex in the air / I don't care / I like the smell of it.”
When I snapped out of my dirty-lyric daze, I realized I'd lost my partner. Making my way through the crowd, I eventually watched his 120 pounds of sass crash a bachelorette party, do a body shot and unbutton a guy's pants.
By the time we were finally reunited, he'd grabbed a glow necklace and wrapped it around the dude's junk like a makeshift cock ring.
“Squeeze it,” Gusti said. “It's just like a Glo Worm!” Dignity out the window and with nothing else to lose, we decided to indulge in the fishy drinks.
Letting the aftertaste settle, I spotted the glowing groin on the dark dance floor and, blue bowl in hand, made a beeline toward him, full steam ahead.
When I realized I was letting his irradiating crotch guide me like a lighthouse, it became clear that my ship had officially sailed.