PRE-CRAWL

Kayla

I don’t mean to wake up at 7a.m. on the morning of what will undoubtedly be an exhausting day of bouncing between seven different dyke and queer bars in NYC, but against my will, I have become a morning person these days. I “pregame” the crawl by rewatching Professor Marston and the Wonder Women, watching the French Open men’s finals because I’m in my tennis era, and getting bagels for me, Drew, and my wife Kristen who will be joining us on our all-day gay adventure.

What’s my go-to bagel order? So glad you asked. I don’t have one. I live in bagel chaos and get something different almost every time. Today, I have opted for a bagel sandwich — BLT, specifically, add avocado.

I also “pregame” with an iced latte, a Coke Zero, and half of a Gatorlyte Zero (Gatorade’s enhanced electrolyte drink). This all counts as hydration. Did you know that? Autostraddle writer Stef Rubino has been remotely programming me for strength training so I can get stronger due to my aforementioned tennis era, and they told me that Big Water has us all in a chokehold for thinking plain water is the only thing that’ll hydrate you. Listen, if a drink’s got water listed as its first ingredient, it’s water! It counts! Coke Zero is water! Gatorade is water! My goddamn iced latte IS WATER. Is it as hydrating as straight up water? Of course not, but it’s hydrating nonetheless. Welcome to being Water Woke.

Drew

With a Gatorlyte™ in my body and “But Daddy I Love Her” on my cropped t-shirt, I left my Brooklyn apartment with Kayla and Kristen. Stonewall, Cubbyhole, Henrietta Hudson, The Bush, Mary’s, Animal, and Ginger’s. I hadn’t done a bar crawl since college. I had never done one this long. And I simply don’t drink the way I used to before the pandemic. But this wasn’t just for fun — it was for science! The scientific study of New York City’s lesbian and lesbian-adjacent bars.

TRAIN TO CRAWL

Kayla

Moments before we’re set to leave, my best friend Becca who will be joining us texts an Instagram post by Stonewall, which is where our journey is meant to begin, announcing some sort of Chappell Roan listening party being hosted as a pre-party to Governor’s Ball this afternoon. We figure the more unplanned chaos, the better, and forge forward with our plan to start at Stonewall, a place I genuinely love but has a somewhat mixed reputation as a bar?

What do people want in a gay bar? What makes a good gay bar? I’m contemplating these questions — not for the first time — while we ride the train to West 4th. Of course, the answers probably vary person to person but sometimes when someone tells me a gay bar is “bad” I’m like…what do you even mean? From what I can gather, people’s aversion to Stonewall usually has something to do with “too many tourists” or “too many straights” or “mediocre drinks,” and that second one is probably the one I understand the most but idk I’ve actually rarely encountered straights at Stonewall?

Anyway, these are the questions I’m ruminating on as we travel instead of I don’t fucking know, setting intentions or something for this bar crawl. I’m not really a “set intentions” type of gay, but that probably would have been a nice thing to do. In retrospect, I guess my intentions would be to just have fun, have at least one interesting conversation with a stranger, and connect meaningfully with my existing friends who would be present. The nice thing about setting intentions after the fact is that it’s like making a to-do list that includes a bunch of things you’ve already done! Check check check! I accomplished my intentions!

(I suppose gay bar crawl intentions are a little un-spicy when you’re monogamously married like me, but luckily my wife and I are mutual wife guys so I was genuinely so thrilled she would be there with me for every stop — especially since a lot of these bars mean something to me from the time before I met her!)

I’ve planned two outfits for the day, because I’m somewhat known for my costume changes among my friends. First up, I’m wearing the Challengers I TOLD YA shirt (#TENNISERA) over cutoff jean shorts. I’ve also got a custom DYKE hat that Becca bought me from @dykestitch. You’ll have to read all the way to the end to find out about outfit two!

Drew

It’s tempting to wrap this experience in escapism, but the truth is we’re in a Covid surge right now and I spent the week before worried about getting sick and missing the day. I increased my masking, tried to make smart choices, and hoped for the best. But how odd to mask at a movie one day and then go to a crowded bar — or seven — another. How wrong it feels to always mask on the subway, but then make an exception on my way to Cubbyhole, because I wanted my makeup to last the entire crawl.

I know people who always mask even at bars and clubs and sex parties. I also know people who haven’t put on a mask — even when flying!! — in years. My inconsistent practices certainly don’t make me a role model, but it feels wrong to go to these bars and not at least bring up the fact that my relationship to these spaces — and society’s relationship to these spaces — has changed in a myriad of conflicting ways since 2020.

Off the train, makeup intact, anxiety spiked, we began our journey.

STONEWALL (Part 1)

Kayla

So, we were wrong about the Chappell Roan listening party being mere texture to our narrative for the day. It’s an obstacle, unfortunately. I mean, everyone looks like they’re having a great time…in line…waiting to get into Stonewall. In case you don’t know, a line for Stonewall is very rare. I don’t think I’ve EVER encountered it? And this line is loooooooong. It’s full of people in their Chappell best, so lots of pink and cowboy gear and sparkles. I get my first compliment of the day on my Challengers shirt.

A Chappell Roan listening party with a bunch of queers sounds fun but not…line-worthy. Also no shade to Chappell whose music I do love but there isn’t very much of it. I feel like a listening party would be very short!

And on that note, a simple pivot is our solution. We’ll start at Cubbyhole and then return to Stonewall after the Chappell Heads are done with their party.

Drew

Despite living in New York for a total of about seven years, I’d somehow never been inside Stonewall. To me, its reputation as history has always outweighed its reputation as a contemporary space to be gay. Kayla informed me I was wrong.

We walked up to Stonewall a little before 2pm to see a line snaked around the monument. Someone online had started a rumor that Chappell herself was going to be at this listening party and people had flocked accordingly. Queers who appeared almost exclusively to be in their twenties were buzzing with excitement under their pink cowboy hats.

If the line had been a bit shorter, I would’ve wanted to embrace the chaos. I don’t mind a younger crowd. But we had to get our first drinks of the day for this to be a proper crawl and it seemed like the line could take half an hour. So onward to Cubby we went!

CUBBYHOLE

Kayla 

I was a patron of Cubbyhole most often before I lived in NYC. I lived in Chicago but made frequent trips to NYC to visit friends and work on a web series I wrote and produced with a couple who I also would crash with while in town. That couple hated each other, and I often felt like a pawn in their squabbles, but we were all messy and in our twenties and talking, laughing, loving, breathing, fighting, f*cking, crying, drinking, riding, winning, losing, cheating, kissing, thinking, dreaming. We did many of these verbs while at Cubbyhole late-night.

But I make a new discovery on this bar crawl: Cubbyhole is like a reverse-vampire. She actually thrives during daylight rather than night! Sure, it’s a totally different vibe than a Saturday night offers, but doorbusting Cubby on a Sunday is actually incredible? Cubby is mostly known for three things: absolutely disgusting $2 margaritas on Tuesdays (which I have been informed are actually $3 now because of the ECONOMY), weird shit hanging from the ceiling, and being extremely fucking small. I love the shotgun layout of Cubby, but I especially love it on a Sunday afternoon when you can actually have some elbow room and a conversation.

Cubby also has a TouchTunes jukebox, and thankfully my wife has a million TouchTunes credits because one time we were kinda tipsy at a bar in Gulfport, FL and the vibes needed some fixing, so we commandeered the TouchTunes and she bulk-bought credits that have been the gift that keeps on giving. Drew uses Kristen’s credits to load some songs and says the theme of her selections is simply “songs I like.” A very intense dyke, however, SWOOPS IN AND FAST-PASSES A BUNCH OF HER OWN PICKS. TouchTunes indeed lets you pay more credits to bump your songs up in the queue. TouchTunes is yet another microcosm of capitalism.

Friend arrivals begin! Best friend Becca arrives. So do my friends Quiniva, Emma, and Caroline, all of whom I met on Tumblr when I was a teenager and who are now my dear IRL friends. Tumblr from my teen years is responsible for half my adult friendships. Also, we all met when CLOSETED and are all queer now. For Them community manager Motti also arrives as well as Autostraddle writer Aamina! It’s a party!

I make my first drink a Dyke Beer. Normally I’d start with a tequila soda or a martini, but I gotta make it Dyke Beer for the start of the dyke bar crawl! I wish I could get Dyke Beer in Florida!

At some point, Drew starts talking about gravity and maybe how she doesn’t believe in it? Guys! I’m worried Drew doesn’t believe in gravity! I’m pretty sure it’s scientifically provable that gravity exists! GUYS?

Drew

I’d only been to Cubby once, because I had one of the best one night stands of my life after meeting someone there and felt like I couldn’t top that experience. But I should go more, because I love the vibe! Especially during the day.

We sat at the bar and started chatting with the two women next to us. They were married and in town to see Ani DiFranco in Hadestown for one of their 50th birthdays. We chatted about the dyke bar scene in their city — nonexistent — and one of the women reminisced about her twenties spent in New York.

The bartender served us our drinks — I ordered a tequila with lime — and weighed in on Cubby’s recent “should men be allowed” TikTok controversy. She said that men are often more consistent customers, so they’re not exactly in a position to turn people away. “This isn’t a lesbian bar, it’s an everyone bar,” she said before mentioning that she’s been a bartender there for 22 years despite being straight. I had a hundred follow up questions, since she was very hot and I’m sure gets hit on by lesbians all the time, but one drink in was not enough to ask any of my questions.

Do I think she probably would care more about keeping Cubby exclusively dyke if she herself was one? Sure. Was one good one night stand four years ago the last time I stepped into the bar? Yup. So who am I to judge? Also, I don’t believe policing gender should happen even in specifically dyke spaces. When I see a cis straight man in a dyke bar, I just assume he’s a particularly tall trans guy or a trans woman early in her transition. Then if he comes out to me as straight and cis, well, then I’ll flirt with him until he buys me a drink. Life is all about perspective!

More of our friends arrived and I put on my favorite song of all time “We Found Love” using the electric jukebox. (Don’t judge.) Then I realized maybe that was not the vibe for 3p at Cubby so next queued up my favorite Indigo Girls song “Fugitive.” This was more the vibe, except soon enough the disappointed Chappell Roan fans started making their way over from Stonewall and they quickly took over the soundtrack.

This was our cue to move on. We thanked the straight bartender and without expectations told our out of town friends that we’d be ending the night at Ginger’s. Then we headed back to Stonewall.

(Also, for the record, I believe in gravity as much as I believe in anything. I just fundamentally don’t believe human beings can know anything 100% FOR SURE. It’s not about gravity, it’s about humans being inherently fallible!)

STONEWALL (Part 2)

Kayla

One thing about me is I’m going to try to keep us as close to our intended schedule as possible, so I rally the gays for our next stop after making sure to get a group selfie. Jury’s out on whether we were able to convince Drew about the fact of gravity.

On the walk to Stonewall, I clock people in Chappell Roan gear which means there indeed was an exodus, so that’s good! Upon arrival, it’s busy, but not over-crowded and there’s no more line. Thank god. I’m way past my years of waiting in lines to merely party.

The upstairs isn’t open, but we manage to take over the back room downstairs with our crew. I get a Bud Light, the official light beer of lesbians (according to me).

Poppers have been proposed, so Drew and crew leave to procure poppers. Say that five times fast.

Drew

With a combination of the usual crowd and the leftovers from the listening party, Stonewall was buzzing. Chappell had been replaced by Janet Jackson’s “Escapade” pulsing over the speakers. I got another tequila lime and we made our way to the back.

Someone brought up poppers and since I have a reputation to uphold, I left with Motti and Aamina to buy some and bring them back for people. During my peak partying years, I always carried them on me, but with less social anxiety and less dysphoria, I haven’t needed them as much. But need and want are two very different things and how could I resist gifting more cis women their first poppers experiences? And at Stonewall? That’s history, baby.

Back at the bar, I showed people how to inhale, and let the warmth spread throughout my body. Then I had to pee. (A side effect of tequila, not poppers.)

Stonewall has two gender neutral single bathrooms, but one is labeled urinal. I waited in the bathroom line for the one without a urinal while wondering why. No one in that space — or any space, really — reads me as cis so who am I fooling? Maybe I don’t want people to think I’m cis, just that I’ve had bottom surgery? Or maybe it just felt right to stand in the bathroom line with the other women than speed into the urinal like the revolving door of cis gay men.

I’d decided to only have one drink at each location, but shots don’t count. Kayla ordered them for us — tequila for me, fireball for her. Since we were being filmed, I took it down in one gulp with faux confidence and my facial contortions quickly betrayed any cool.

More poppers!

Poppers can turn any bar into a club — temporarily — and Aamina and I danced in the middle of Stonewall for about 60 seconds.

Having saluted our ancestors, it was now time to walk to Henrietta Hudson.

HENRIETTA HUDSON

Kayla

I have mixed feelings about Henrietta, mainly because I feel like its rebranding during the pandemic was a little confused. I miss the pool table??????? Why does it feel sorta clubby but also stuffy now? I have a lot of questions!

It’s not a typical night at Henrietta though, which works out! They’re hosting a reading for the release of Emerge: The Anthology for the 2023 Lambda Literary Writers Retreat. Drew and I were both at the 2023 Lambda retreat — her as a screenwriting fellow and me as a speculative fiction writer in residence. We met Aamina at the retreat, too! So it’s like a mini-Lambda reunion and a chance to inject our bar crawl with some queer literature because we’re ARTISTES.

At Henrietta, Autostraddle writer Gabrielle (Gabbie) Grace Hogan also joins the crawl, along with her girlfriend AND her ex-girlfriend. Lesbians!

Drew

When Kayla and I realized there was a Lambda reading at this bar on the very day we’d planned our crawl, it felt like kismet. We were roommates at the Lambda Literary Retreat last summer and my writing was literally published in the anthology that was launching at this event.

But as I drank my next tequila lime, I started to realize “middle of a bar crawl” and “literary reading surrounded by a bunch of acquaintances” are very different vibes. I was also starting to get hungry.

I did my best to appreciate my peers, but when it was almost time to go, I went outside to take a hit from my vape and FaceTime my girlfriend. As a dyke in a long distance relationship, sometimes you have to squeeze in a chat whenever you can!

The rest of our group soon followed and we said goodbye to our friends who were only with us for the Manhattan leg. We’d planned to get dinner around this time, but when we learned our next destination was BYOF, we decided to order in and keep the party going.

UBER #1

Kayla

It’s time for the Brooklyn stretch of the crawl, which means piling into two cars to make the journey. I get the front seat somehow, so I have a moody little nostalgic moment as we’re driving over the bridge, remembering all the times I rode over the bridge after some queer revelry in the Village. Only, those rides over the bridge usually occurred in the dark or in the soft glow of super-early-morning after the 4a.m. bars finally closed. It’s early evening in the summer now so it’s BRIGHT!!!! A bright ass bridge ride.

Drew

I almost never take Ubers in New York. Unless it’s really late at night or the train isn’t running, it isn’t actually quicker. Plus the vibes of the subway are so much better than a car. After all, I left Los Angeles for a reason.

As we sat in traffic, I started to fade. Bar crawlers are like sharks — got to keep moving. Luckily, a friend of Kayla’s hooked up her phone to the car’s Bluetooth and after “Die Young” by Kesha (my request) I was re-energized.

THE BUSH

Kayla

I would describe the overall aesthetic of The Bush as nonexistent. It feels like a pop-up party in a warehouse, but it’s a permanent bar space! There isn’t a lick of decor throughout. Idk maybe some people are into that minimalist, industrial look and feel! I’m just grateful for the block party happening directly outside, which has a more welcoming and communal feel to it. I’m also grateful for the halal cart food I’m shoveling into my mouth at the bar. My friend Jillian — who was my intro to women’s studies TA in undergrad before we became friends — reminds me to breathe because I’m eating so fast. That chicken over rice saved my life!!!!!!

For Them x Autostraddle content creator TIMA meets us at The Bush and apparently had a whole travel saga due to street closures for the Puerto Rico Day parade. But she made it! And she’s filming videos that I’m sure are not at all embarrassing and that we look totally hot and confident in.

Drew

I tried to go to The Bush once before, but there was a big cover and my friend and I were at the end of our night. This visit to the latest dyke bar was long overdue.

Our Uber driver dropped us off a couple blocks away, because the street in front of The Bush was closed down for a Puerto Rican Day party. The energy was good. We went inside to use the bathroom, scarfed down our delivered halal, ordered another round of drinks — this time I specified which type of tequila — and then we went outside to dance.

We were joined by Tima, our digital content creator, and Laura, my first ever dyke friend and one of my favorite people in the whole world.

Now, I was extra happy I’d bought those poppers. And, no offense to the Chappell Roan baby dykes or my fellow Lambda writers, I was happy to be in a space where the vibe was A PARTY. There were well-dressed hot people everywhere and we were having a blast. One of the bartenders at The Bush had a shirt that read SEX DOESN’T SELL VOYEURISM DOES and I was sold on ogling the crowd.

But the problem with a crawl is we had a schedule to keep, so alas the party was cut short.

UBER #2

Drew

We had to split into two. I took Laura, Gabbie, and Gabbie’s girlfriend (her ex went home) and Kayla took Kristen, Tima, Quiniva, and Becca.

This car ride was significantly shorter. (Thank God.) But most days I still would have insisted we walk to the L.

MARY’S BAR

Kayla

We take cars to Mary’s in Greenpoint, where we link up with People Collide author Isle McElroy and some other pals. The first time I went to the relatively new Mary’s was for a surprise engaygement party thrown by my friends. Much like that time, our crew are the only people at Mary’s. I hear it’s a good spot for watching sports! Tonight, the projector is screening music videos. At one point, I talk way too earnestly about Miley Cyrus. Whoops!

Drew

Here’s the thing about Mary’s. It’s a great bar to hang out with friends. And our already excellent crew was soon joined by Isle McElroy and original Autostraddle icon Stef Schwartz. I ordered another Espolòn lime and had a lovely time. But it’s just not a place to meet strangers — especially on a Sunday night — and there was some whiplash after the block party vibe of The Bush.

What Mary’s does have is a big screen that plays music videos and when “Mandinka” by Sinéad O’Connor came on, we all turned to watch with reverence like Americans with bad politics when the national anthem is sung at a baseball game.

After properly catching up with our friends, it was time, again, to dance, so we headed to our next destination.

Oh and I do vaguely remember taking another shot at some point at Mary’s. But Kayla will have to confirm or deny that for me.

ANIMAL

Kayla

Animal is a new queer bar that’s walking distance from Mary’s so it was a last-minute addition to the bar crawl lineup because I thought it would be cool to check out and support something new. It was def the most ~party~ vibe of all the bars, equipped with a good dance floor and a lot of hot queers looking to have a Night Out.

It’s time for Outfit Two, which is a black pleather zip-up cropped tank and a silver miniskirt. She’s going party mode…even though she’s very tired.

Drew

Maybe it’s because I had my gay coming-of-age in Los Angeles at a time when the city had no dyke bars, but I love a classic gay bar. I don’t care if the crowd is mostly cis gay men. If the DJ is good enough, I’ll have a blast.

Since this is a cocktail bar, I switched things up and ordered their mezcal negroni. Then I headed to the dance floor along with Stef, Laura, and Becca. The night is starting to get a bit fuzzy, but I do remember some or all of us or maybe just me(?) comiserating about wanting to fuck gay guys. Kind of a wild development for me as someone who spent my four years as a “boy” at NYU rejecting that very demographic, because I was “straight, sorry.”

I don’t really remember leaving this bar.

UBER #3

Drew

But I do remember singing along to “Party in the USA” in the Uber to Ginger’s.

GINGER’S

Kayla

Ginger’s was always going to be the final stop of the crawl, because it’s my personal favorite queer bar. I spent my 27th birthday at Ginger’s. I have so many fond memories and messy memories and lost memories associated with that place.

I am, however, EXTREMELY TIRED upon arrival. My friend Sreshtha is here! We met when Kristen and I lived in Vegas. Honestly, it’s quite lovely just how many friends from different parts of my life and who I met outside of NYC have all made little guest appearances throughout the night. THE AUTOSTRADDLE DYKE BAR CRAWL BRINGS US ALL TOGETHER! I COULD CRY!

But I’m actually too tired to cry. Just as I’m about to ask Drew if I can get her apartment keys so Kristen and I can end our crawl and go back to her place, Drew magically appears and offers her apartment keys without me even having to ask. That’s gay telepathy, baby. Or maybe I just looked so haggard she was like BITCH GO HOME.

Drew

Since moving back to Brooklyn, Ginger’s has been my local dyke bar. It’s kind of like reverse Cubby in that I’ve never had a GREAT night there, but I do come back all the time. Drinks are cheap, vibes are solid. I feel like it’s cool these days to hate on Ginger’s, but I always have a good time.

The biggest surprise of the night occurred when we ran into one of the out of town lesbians we met at Cubby earlier in the day. Yes, just one. She told us she and her wife had… broken up?? HER WIFE. She had said she was excited to relive her twenties in NYC, and I guess she wasn’t kidding. Wishing both of them the best whether they got back together after one chaotic night in NYC or really are splitting.

We were then joined by my friend Carmen who was featured in this piece I wrote about the Greer Lankton musical Doll/Girl. By this point, I was quite drunk, so as a more recent friend, Carmen definitely got to see a new side of me. As the BAC goes up, the walls come down! Trying to not judge myself too much.

I think we got to Ginger’s around 10:30 and I didn’t leave until around 2. It’s a bit of a blur but here’s what I remember:

1) One more Espolòn lime
2) Saying goodbye to Tima
3) Talking to Stef and Carmen
4) Giving my keys to Kayla and Kristen so they could leave around midnight
5) Laura, Becca, and I talking to a male sailor who claimed to be cis and straight. Not sure we got an answer to why he ended up at Ginger’s, but again the thing about cishet men at dyke bars is they will buy you a drink
6) Ah okay so two more Espolòn limes
7) Laura and Stef and Carmen leaving
8) Becca and I talking more to the sailor
9) The sailor thinking he was going to hook up with us
10) Us roasting the sailor for this assumption (even though we were flirting)
11) The sailor leaving
12) Becca and I leaving
13) Me taking the subway even though I could have been reimbursed for an Uber
14) Getting home and drinking another Gatorlyte™

POST-CRAWL

Kayla

While all seven bars had their own distinct strengths and weaknesses, the thing that brought this whole experiment together for me was the beautiful confluence of friends from all different parts of my life who came through. I guess it’s obvious right? A queer bar is defined by the people you’re with inside it. A queer bar is defined by the community. The bar doesn’t have to be great. The lighting will probably be bad. In NYC especially, the drinks will be expensive. But if you’re with the right people, you’re still going to manage to have a fun or at least an interesting time.

Drew

When I told people we were going to all the dyke bars in NYC in one day, I was met with laughs. “All two?” “How many are there even?” “Should be a short crawl!” Five, I corrected. Plus we’re starting at Stonewall and throwing in a new gay bar.

How can lesbians beat the no-nightlife assumptions when people don’t even know the bars that exist? I remember one time at a former lesbian bar turned gay bar in Chicago, a woman in her 70s said to me, “I’m not a lesbian. I’m a gay woman. Lesbians are boring. I still go out.”

Maybe going to all these bars in one day was just an excuse to go drinking with our friends and call it work. Or maybe it was to prove a larger point. Lesbians, queer women, dykes — we can party, too. Not just at one night only events, but with enough consistency to keep establishments open all over the city — or, at least, all over the West Village and Brooklyn.

I’m not sure I’ll be going to seven bars in one day again any time soon (I’m still recovering), but this experience did make me want to attend all these establishments with more frequency — plus other queer bars we didn’t hit like one of my faves Good Judy.

Since the pandemic, it’s sometimes felt easier to just be a homebody. But that’s not who I am! I love crowds and flirting with strangers and dancing and poppers and more dancing! Be safe, continue to Covid test, mask when that feels right, give just as much energy to helping your community and doing whatever you can to ease the grief of the world at large, and then, yeah, find the time to party. Not just during Pride Month but all year round.

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