I felt bad asking even for a cup of water, since he works for tips and I had brought no extra cash.He told me I could get him next time, and knowing there probably wouldn’t be a next time, I felt worse.to attend a Male Socials evening—a men's only event held at The Social Club in Nashville—I was tempted to say no.
(I know it's irrational, because they are there too, but rationality doesn't fare well against fear!
) What if I saw someone there I didn't want to see that much of? But if reason couldn't overcome my fears, my curiosity, and a strong voyeuristic impulse, ultimately did! for the Male Socials, I put it off until about p.m. Finally I bit the bullet and drove down to Division Street.
I wasn't going to explore that section but at the top of the rise appeared a guy in his mid-twenties. My acquaintance led me to the staircase by the bar, which took us to the second level of the club.
Along the way we passed a sign expressing the Club’s rule against unwanted advances: if someone says no, you stop and don’t continue to harass them.
Holding my cup I turned and approached the DJ booth. " I explained it was my first time, and hadn't really planned on telling anyone.
Up a short set of stairs I could see a smaller room with tables and lockers against the back wall (you just need to bring your own lock). It turns out it was his first time, too, but he's young and cute, so someone had given him a thorough enough tour to direct me to the party.
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But dropping in anonymously at such a venue far from home, in a big city, is one thing: attending an event in my own town was something else altogether.
What if someone I knew well saw me and thought worse of me?
The club is BYOB and you can deposit your bottle with the bartender, who looks after it.