Sticking Feathers In Your Ass Don't Make You A Chicken

I am going to a club tonight.
Invited by a friend. Queer bars always bring me down. Mexico or Stateside.
I am very comfortable with my homosexuality, but I can't stand being in a smoky den filled with squeaking squealing queers. All cooing and giggling at every crotch they see. Sometimes I feel like a piece of meat or being sized up like a goat in an Arabic Bazaar.
These squinty-eyed, pinch-face "girls" talk to me and try to be pleasant, all circling me in a vain attempt to get me in bed. What would make them think I would be interested in their unattractive person?
And just let me try to take a piss. Several follow me into the restroom, line up at the urinal, and glare in ambiguous lechery.
"It's just a freakin' penis!" I once snapped and marched out.
Usually, I get depressed and take my business elsewhere. But tonight my friend wants to "come out". So, I guess I'll humor him.
Why? I don't know. I guess 'cause he's so sweet.