One of the greatest things about living in San Francisco is that there’s a neighborhood for everything. Whether it’s food, history or real estate, from North Beach to Haight to Pac Heights, each area is famous for something. And no neighborhood is MORE infamous than the Castro. I distinctly remember the first time I learned what a neighborhood like the Castro entailed…

I was in the fifth grade and my future sixth grade teacher took me out so my parents could have a night to themselves. (Growing up my mother always worked at my schools, which made for some really interesting student-teacher relationships.) So on this night, Ms Gardner took me to downtown Sacramento to see the movie “Babe” and after we went to a local cafe where I enjoyed my first ever cup of espresso. As we walked down the street post my coffee bliss, Ms Gardner noticed a man following us. She hurried to get her keys and rushed me into the passenger seat. As the man briskly passed us by he called back, “Ladies, you have nothing to worry about. You’re in Lavender Heights tonight.” Ms Gardner relaxed, got into the car and attempted to explain to me that Lavender Heights is to Sacramento as the Castro is to San Francisco. At that moment I had no idea what she was talking about but I smiled, nodded and the moment I got home, proceeded to ask my mother to explain.

Since then, of course, I’ve been to the Castro more times than I can count. I love the culture, the restaurants, the movie sing-a-longs and most of all, I love the dancing!

Fast forward from age 12 to 21…In college I had a great friend named “V-Lo.” I was so smitten with him. We had so much in common; i.e. our love of Roseanne, the Rent soundtrack, boat shoes, dancing and dining. It’s a shock I ever mistook him as straight. When he finally came out I was temporarily devastated.  (I’m serious… This was the first time I ever used Tiffany’s to solve a problem and, sadly for my wallet, it worked.)

After my month of mourning had passed, I decided to embrace my new gay V-Lo and would join him in a supportive adventure to the Castro to find him a man! At this point I had never gone out in the Castro. I assumed there was an awesome night life, but had yet to experience it for myself. So around 9pm, Stina, V-Lo and I headed up to the city for a night on the town!

Thankfully V-Lo drove so Stina and I could get plenty drunk for this exciting, but scary experience.

We parked right off the main strip, headed to “The Bar” for a Long Island. Mmm…good. After a quick buzz kicked in, we walked down the street to, what is now my most favorite dancing hot spot, Badlands. Badlands is a night club, geared towards specifically towards gay men. (Ladies, if you ever need a boost of self-confidence this is most definitely the place to go. Every man is complimentary towards you, hilarious and still wants to buy you a drink. I mean, what’s not to love. And on top of it all, they play the best music and there’s NO line for the bathroom!)

So we’re about an hour into enjoying the company of some hot Australian guys and their free cocktails, when suddenly things get a little ridiculous.

We’re on a very crowded dance floor, it’s hot as balls (pun intended) and we’re surrounded by tons of hawt, sweaty men. Stina and I are dancing withtwo particular gays, while V-Lo is dancing off to the side.

Insert blurred memory here. The next thing I know I’m slammed up against a wall making out with some shirtless guy. He was definitely gay, but for whatever reason, decided he was most interested in kissing a girl that night. (How Katy Perry of him.)  I remember distinctly he was chewing Bubblicious bubblegum and in the middle of my makeout session, I turned to V-Lo and yelled, “V-Lo taste him! He tastes like watermelon!”  I’m pretty sure at the same time, Stina also ended up making out with the guy she was dancing with….what the hell is wrong with us?!

Shortly thereafter V-Lo decided it was time to head home…We cooled off for a bit with one of the Australians outside…Looking back leaving was a brilliant idea.

This turned out to be the first of many trips to the Castro, but although some came close, none resulted in such ridiculousness.