For a while, I had some reservations about going to a gay bar. What if the music was too loud and obnoxious? Would certain patrons grope me? Could I even dance?These reservations didn’t have much of a say in the matter when my friend Jessie Arnold discovered that I, a 21-year-old homosexual, had never been to the gay bar.

“We’re going to Newbies,” she said, in reference to New Beginnings at 2910 Bristol Highway.

I think it was the company of good friends, along with the pitchers of Harp Lager we shared at the Acoustic Coffeehouse beforehand, that helped me decide that I should experience a gay bar at least once.

The week had been rough on my mental well-being, courtesy of family problems and my trademark inability to prioritize them.

Decision-making is much easier in good company with a pleasant buzz. There was very little internal conflict with my decision to go to New Beginnings.

When we were capable of driving or being driven, we arrived just in time for the drag show.

Even though the music wasn’t exactly The Beatles or The Yeah Yeah Yeahs, the performances were highly entertaining and the pounding beats were a welcome escape from the aforementioned stress of the week.

The crowd was a pleasant surprise as well. Some friends were there and an attractive fellow named Trip bought me a drink in honor of my “first-timer” status.

He motioned for me to meet his friends. I hesitated because I wanted to spend more time with my own group.

“Go!” Jessie ordered, shoving me in their direction. “Well,” I thought, “he did buy me a drink and there seems to be a cultural obligation for me to mingle, so why not meet some new people and migrate back?”

After some handshakes and tidbit exchanges, I was still rather comfortable in an environment that I once thought would never be my scene.

We watched the rest of the drag show, which taught me that I had previously not known what “fabulous” truly meant.

As I finished my drink, feeling a bit like a wallflower, the show ended and the dance floor was no longer occupied. That didn’t last very long.

Not a minute passed before I had been coerced yet again by the tenacious Jessie Arnold to join everyone on the dance floor.

She wasn’t able to get me on the elevated platform, but there I was in the middle of the room with a series of attractive ladies and gentlemen.

The last time I had danced in public, I was a closet-case at my high school prom. How fitting that I was on the dance floor again for my first time at a gay bar; I never anticipated how much fun I would have.

In fact, I – the socially awkward bookworm and homebody – had some scandalous moves and delighted in the chemistry I shared with my charming colleagues.

All too soon, we had to leave at 3 for closing time. I hugged people goodbye and thanked Jessie for her marvelous idea to go to New Beginnings.

Now I know if you’re homophobic, you might not have much fun at the gay bar . . . allegedly.

However, if you aren’t homophobic and you are willing to try new things that go beyond your comfort level, I recommend attending a gay bar.

See how stressed you feel when a drag queen winks at you.

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