Here is how to make a gay bar, according to work.—lowercase, with a period, why not—Raleigh’s new Fayetteville Street nightclub:
Step 1: Take a straight bar.
Step 2: Add neon lights and generic dance music.
Step 3: Leather couches. Everywhere.
Step 4: Profit.
In an interview with WRAL, manager Joey Eshleman—he couldn’t be reached for comment—said he likes to think of work. as a “straight-friendly” gay bar, a concept that seems to presume that other gay bars are turning away breeders at the door. (Proof this is wrong: Flex on karaoke nights. Also, The Bar, anytime.) In reality, work. is more like a facelift for the former Capital City Tavern—it’s owned by the same people—with black leather chaise lounges replacing the tables and gender-neutral signs on the bathrooms.
Across the country, gay (and lesbian) bars have become something of an endangered species over the last decade. As society became more accepting of LGBTQ people, the need for discreet spaces of their own diminished. Hookup apps like Grindr made it easy for LGBTQ people to meet people for sex outside of a gay bar. And since gay bars were historically located in marginalized neighborhoods, rising rents due to gentrification have sometimes made business unsustainable.
And there’s also the fact that gay bars have become less gay, while queer and drag events have moved to nontraditional venues. The lines have blurred. Gay bars have become havens for straight people, particularly straight women seeking a good time without the hassle of straight men. But where straight women go, straight men inevitably follow. Eventually, a gay bar is just a bar.
So what, then, is the point of the straight-friendly work.? Perhaps Eshleman’s comment was just a throwaway line, but on Saturday night, I set out to explore the question anyway.
Other than the furniture and a new logo, not much has actually changed at work. since the Capital City Tavern days. The patrons I ran into didn’t seem to mind. Some of them didn’t seem to know the difference—or if they did, they didn’t care.
I rolled in just before 11:30 p.m., the dawn of club o’clock, and work. was packed with a diverse crowd almost impossible to define: 21 to 80, frat boys to elder gays, nonbinary folks to middle-age lesbians to a woman in a rhinestone tiara wearing a sash that proclaimed her the “bride.” No one was particularly cool or uncool. It was like if everyone you never wondered about from middle school washed up on a dance floor.
“I think a lot of people still don’t know it’s not Capital City anymore,” said Caitlyn Daron, whose wavy blond hair cascaded out from a knit beanie. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”
I approached the bar, discovered a surprisingly decent beer selection, and ordered a Crush Cucumber Sour. I asked the bartender if it was always this crowded.
“More,” he said, smiling. “This is a light night.”
Of course it is.
There was nothing risque or challenging here, no discernable sense of culture, nothing to identify it or make it stand out. work. is the Applebee’s of gay bars, a corporate entity that could be picked up and dropped off in any city in America and no one would know the difference. It manages to be neither pretty nor gritty; it simply exists and makes money. It is a shell of brick walls to house sweaty bodies and serve pricey drinks to people trying to have a good time and/or get laid.
It is not fighting the system. It is the system.
There was a goddamn Fast & Furious movie playing on the television.
“This is metropolitan,” a black-polo-clad Jonathan Maynard told me. “This feels like DC. It is the most eclectic crowd I’ve seen. It really is a little bit of everyone.”
“It’s upscale,” said another John, whose last name I didn’t catch. He had a gray mustache and a black leather trenchcoat. “It’s the martinis bar for the in-crowd, and everyone I saw walk in here has a big penis.”
Um, OK.
I curled up on a barstool and nursed my beer as couples gyrated under a disco ball. The bass was too loud (or maybe I’m too old?). The beat seemed to be continuously ascending like I was trapped in the climax of a retro video game. An employee in a black “work.” shirt nearly grabbed the stool out from under me, mumbling an apology. A remix of “The Macarena” started playing, drawing the Boomers in the crowd to the dance floor.
In the bathroom, I overheard a drunk girl rambling about “heteronormative spaces” and declaring herself an “ally.” I practically ran to the bar and ordered a tequila soda with lime. A Lizzo remix thumped so loudly I couldn’t hear myself think.
When I got home, with my ears still ringing, I reconsidered my initial reaction. Not that I’m wrong to think of work. as corporate and generic. But maybe Raleigh’s LGBTQ community should have something as soulless as Glenwood South’s Cornerstone.
Why do all gay establishments have to be interesting? If people were having fun—and they were—who I am to judge?
Contact Raleigh news editor Leigh Tauss at [email protected].
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The lines have blurred. Gay bars have become havens for straight people, particularly straight women seeking a good time without the hassle of straight men.
Same women don’t enjoy lesbians for friends and spend the night wanting gay male attention,free drinks, and the gay male to not ditch her for sex.{cock blocking} These things make tou want to go to apps to avoind needy straight women.
It is abundantly clear that the author is neither from this area nor has spent significant time in the LGBTQ community. If she was she would have realized the significance of this bar and what it means to us who grew up in Raleigh and witnessed the state government vote against our right to marry in 2012 and the whole bathroom bill debacle in 2016. She even trivializes the purpose of gay bars in the first place, they aren’t just venues for discreet hookups and drag shows, they were for a time the only spaces where LGBTQ people could be themselves. Where they could dance with their partner without risking assault, where they could hold hands and show affection outside of their home, where they could meet friends and discuss queer issues without fear. LGBTQ bars have always been more than just bars, and it has always been much more about the people within them than how they’re decorated. I’m sorry the author is disappointed that their aren’t pride flags everywhere and glitter on the walls, but the physical aesthetic isn’t what makes this space in particular important. Having a LGBTQ bar literally a block from the capital building, with open windows and loud music (too loud for the author but not for “21-80 year olds”, which i think says more about her than the bar) is radical in and of itself. But even beyond that, having a place where straight and gay people are dancing together, drinking together, and conversing is even more important. Maybe in NYC or LA you have straight boys chasing after the straight girls who enter our spaces, but in Raleigh we can assure you straight boys are a very rare sight, except for at work. I don’t see straight boys flocking to gogo nights at Flex or Drag night at Legends. And let’s be honest, they won’t any time soon. But at work. straight men and women are experiencing some “firsts” that can’t be understated. Plenty of straight people have around here have 1. Never seen a queer couple dancing together in person, 2. Never used a multi-stall gender neutral bathroom., and even 3. Have never had a conversation with a queer person. Having personal experiences, knowing a queer person, being around queer people, is the best way to bring people to the side of supporting LGBTQ rights. work. is the only bar in the triangle making a conscious effort to create those experiences, to bring both communities together, and to provide an inclusive space where everyone is welcome. Even the author admitted that the bar “was packed with a diverse crowd almost impossible to define.” The fact that she is describing the crowd with a hint of disgust and not with awe is shameful on her part. This is the kind of diversity more bars should strive for, and I’m glad work. decided to lead the way. The author says “there was nothing risque or challenging here”, but work. is challenging the system in a way no other bar here has, maybe not by showing porn on the TVs like other bars, but in a more mature and impactful way that will make real change.
I grew up going to gay bars like Legends and Flex, and hanging out in LGBTQIA+ spaces like Rocky Horror Picture Show—and I considered myself straight (and later bi-) although I was actually queer panromantic asexual and just discovering myself. I was kissing girls, kissing boys, kissing individuals who were Agender and transgender and genderqueer and just queer. I was trying three-way open polyamorous relationships; I was wearing leather collars and learning bondage knots. These aren’t things you could do at regular heterosexual typical bars.
THAT is why gay bars need to be inclusive — not everyone who is actually LGBT even realizes it in our early years. We are figuring ourselves out, and gay bars are a safe place to do that.
So I don’t judge a gay bar that allows straight people; many of those “straight people” are on their LGBTQIA+ journey, too.
Also I’m not sure what the issue is that this bar is trying to make money. Of course it is — bars are businesses, not non-profits.
This article seems really close minded. If you’re actually from this area and realize what a big deal an ENTIRE fourth gay bar in town is, and really supported growth in our community, I don’t think you would have this negative salty taste in your tone. Remembering we birthed the HB2 bill and are well known for the strong racist and sexist tone in our government, this bar is actually a really big deal. Isn’t the entire movement of the LGBTQ movement equality? Why would you scoff at a place that promotes equality? Isn’t putting down straight people the same thing as putting down gay people? You shut down the importance of normalizing everyone in a place that promotes and welcomes people that have been strongly oppressed in our community. The new age doesn’t care, and wants it known that we don’t agree with those leading us, and changes are coming. Your intent may be to promote the LGBTQ community but you’re actually everything any persecuted race fights against. Hey guess what, it’s pretty fucking cool for Raleigh to have a coed multi stall bathroom. It’s pretty fucking cool that we can now open a gay bar on Fayetteville st. Wow, a bar rebranded and is making money? I’d like to hear about all the shitty companies that open around here that promote white supremacy and steal money. All the monopolies and greedily owned businesses. Or maybe even all the companies and people buying up our local real estate and hiking up our rent? You’re angry about a gay bar that includes everyone and isn’t hipster enough for you? This article fucking sucks and you need to do more research on the subjects you write about.
you’re literally judging everyone… contradicting yourself in this whole article. i literally brought my straight friend to this bar because there were not naked men walking around everywhere. hopefully covid-19 teaches you how to be more positive about things… and also find a new career