A Preacher Walks into a Gay Bar

Me, at a protest. A typical thing. Just reminding people of a seemingly oft-forgotten fact.

The first time I walked into a gay bar, I was hungry, thirsty, and in need of sustenance. A group of college friends and I were enjoying a California spring break adventure. This particular stop took place in San Francisco. We walked in, took a cursory look around, found a table, and sat down. Taking a closer look, once we were seated, we noticed a little something different. To say that we, with our sheltered little Bible college world, were a bit unaccustomed to such things, might be an understatement. To say that we handled it well, well, I leave that to you to judge.

I remember glancing around wondering if anyone would think we were gay. Wondering if they would flirt with us. Wondering, oh, my! What if someone tried to pick up one of us? After all…