The Gentrification of Being Gay
I took this photo as I left Urge on its last night/morning of business. I like to think the white ball is the ghost of all the accumulated cum that was spilt in those walls, slowly rising up to gay heaven. Because let's face it, there was a lot of sperm spilt in there over the 17 or so years it was in business. And yes, some of it was mine, and I helped other guys spill some of theirs too. I recall a few years back being in Sydney and talking to an Aussie in the Oxford who'd been over to Auckland and Urge the week before and he excitedly told me how he'd been given a blow job while standing at the bar. Maybe I'm jaded, but I was like "Yeah, that happens there." And it wasn't just cum, remember Troughman? And others of his ilk lying on the floor in the toilets and hoping for a drink straight from the tap. He swore he could tell what drugs people were on by how their urine tasted, and sometimes got high off too much P in their pee. But Urge ha...