Thing 41: Remingtons

Gay. Cowboy. Karaoke. Gay cowboy karaoke, people! And line dancing! Gay cowboy line dancing! Have I died and gone to Heaven? Or just popped over to the Hill for an evening at Remingtons?



I am embarrassed to admit that this is "Thing 41," and the first gay "thing" of the bunch. To my gay readers (all two of you), I apologize. It's just that I got my fag hag on in college, and the appeal of hanging out amongst beautiful men that I can't get a piece of, while listening to techno remixes....well, I've kind of outgrown that.

But this was now my second visit to Remingtons, and I must say, I really love it. In part because it is something completely unique. It is not a Cobalt, an Apex or a Chaos. There is line dancing on a pink neon lit dance floor. There are gays in cowboy hats singing "'cause I'm a redneck drag queen, and I ain't no high class broad." There are couples two-stepping and shirtless bartenders in cowboy hats and slide shows of naked men projected onto the walls.

It costs $5 to get into Remingtons on a Saturday night, which earns you admission and a 'drink discount' ticket. The bar is cash only - so come prepared. The upstairs is for playing pool and singing karaoke, which is where we spent the majority of our time since we were there for Jenny's birthday party and the girl's got a voice in her. But the downstairs, where I wandered to when the single stall in the unisex bathroom upstairs was already occupied, is where things get a little weird. And by weird, I mean fabulous.


There is a large wooden dance floor set up on the ground floor, bathed in neon pink light. The DJ will play a song, and by magic or ESP a half dozen gays will materialize on the dance floor and begin line dancing in unison. Except it's gay line dancing, so the dancers have EXTRA good rhythm and flair, and the music is not country but gay techno dance remixes. It's not the Achey Breaky Heart, so much as Everybody Dance Now. It is quite literally mesmerizing. On my way to the bathroom, I froze and stood staring at the line dancing for about 15 minutes; it was all so very camp and wonderful.


In between line dances, there are couples' dances, two steps and waltzes, with more traditional country western music. Couples in cowboy boots, broad brimmed cowboy hats, tight jeans and big belt buckles take to the dance floor, twirling and promenading arm in arm.



Back upstairs, the karaoke emcee is cracking wise about his ex-boyfriend, the shirtless bartender pauses his drink service to belt out a song, and that slide show of naked men goes on and on -- that one with a strategically placed laundry basket, this one, ahem, literally tossing a salad. And we are all having a ball, singing and drinking and playing pool.