In New Orleans, the yellow brick road leads to the Center.
By Kate X Messer,
9:18PM, Thu. Jan. 24, 2008
After a week trekking the mostly straight byways of Louisiana, I was in desperate need for family time. I just wanted to spread out and be fabulous, you know? Just needed a good dose of Vitamin Q.
The newspapers, even the Gulf Coast's legendary queer rag Ambush, only helped with finding bars. And gay bars in New Orleans are, for the most part very male. Usually not an issue for me, as community is community, but I missed the throaty come-hither of a Southern bio-queen, or the broad-shouldered shuffle of some bull-dagger's swagger – even the vocal cord cracklins of my trans brethren – MTF, FTM, I did not care which or who or howdy – would be a symphony to my ears.
If you don't know the neighborhoods, New Orleans, and especially the French Quarter can be confusing without a map. I knew that what I was searching for was somewhere off Frenchmen Street, and I was on foot. Luckily, the big cruiser bike covered in "Trust Women" and "Equal Marriage" stickers under the flapping rainbow flag gave it away. I was welcomed and taken in by friendly hostess, veteran Krystal and host, young buck Sebastian who both volunteer at the Lesbian and Gay Community Center of New Orleans and who gave me the low down on so much of what makes Gay New Orleans.
If you find yourself in NOLA lost, without a clue, take it from Gay Place, these folks'll set you gay.