feel or exchanging welcomed hugs. Immediately to my left was a doorway that opened into a narrow hall lined with doors. Men stood by open doors waiting for someone willing to join them in one of the small rooms. This looked like the layout of the video booths section of a classic adult bookstore, as many gay men will recognize. The insides of these rooms are far cleaner and more comfortable than those video booths though.... To my right a door opened into a large, darker room that I would check out later. For the moment I was feeling claustrophobic and wanted to get to that well-lit room at the opposite end of the hall. So I pushed forward, carefully avoiding bumping into or rubbing against people as I passed. As I came to a little row of tables, most of which hosted men smoking and talking, I could see that, in the open space across from the booths, there was a large, black ceiling-mounted sling. I didn’t immediately notice that, to the left of the slings was a little corral leading back to some curtains (I later was told this was the glory hole section).
Nashville’s LGBT community. There were guys who looked like they barely made the age limit (you have to be 21 to enter Male Socials) and guys who could have been in their seventies. Most men were in their late twenties to mid-forties though. I kicked myself for making assumptions: I had been expecting the place to be full of only much older men trolling for sex. What was even more amazing was the racial and cultural diversity. Caucasian, African American, Asian, and Latino men intermingled both in and out of the little private rooms. Even if they came in together in small, homogenous groups, the social barriers seemed lighter. A young, Latino guy, probably twenty-five was leaving with his friend, but on his way out he grabbed my hand, told me I was cute, and asked me if I would be back next time. I barely had time to process before he was dragged off, though smiling over his shoulder at me. I’m definitely not cute but that was great for the ego. What wasn’t surprising was the diversity of dress. There were some real exhibitionists there, but fewer than
Nashville—and such play is uncommon at Male Socials, or so I was told when I asked a few men. One of the men I asked, a daddy bear, seemed disappointed when he found out I was merely curious. I was really at the point of sensory overload by that time—in real time about twenty minutes after entering the building—so I hung out and tried to behave nonchalantly. I thought leaning against a wall and watching a pool game between a gentleman in his sixties and a college-aged African American cub in a jockstrap would render me invisible. Instead it drew the interest of most everyone who came around. Was I going to play? What was I into? People were friendly, not aggressive but definitely outgoing, and gradually, despite myself, I got drawn into a conversation with the men playing pool. As people came and went, I met men who had driven in from Chattanooga, Huntsville, and Kentucky for the party, and people from as far away as New York who happened to have discovered the event while here on a trip.
“It’s a venue within which sex is sought and encouraged, and where, no matter what your tastes, you’ll find some attractive men.” Mostly I failed to notice this because there was a somewhat handsome Asian man in his mid- to late-twenties laying in the sling with his legs in the air. He seemed comfortable with the situation, and the men around him were watching casually, as if waiting. The “for what” became clear when an older, “wolf”-ish gentleman returned, wearing very little, from another hallway lined with doors. Almost casually, he grasped the hips of the man in the sling and resumed his pleasure. I was immediately struck by how normal this all seemed to feel to those around me. There was no crowding, no attempt to sidle up and get involved. Mostly there was a lot of watching over uninterrupted conversations about mostly mundane things: work, family, travel and the like. I took a moment to look around, though my eyes kept getting drawn back to the sling, where things were getting more … energetic. The crowd was more diverse than anything I’ve ever seen in
I expected. Some men walked around naked, having locked up their clothes and wallets. These carefree souls were more than happy to stand and chat with it all hanging out, and for me that’s a bit distracting. More than a few times, I had to remind myself that some guy’s eyes were up there. Other men wore only underwear. In retrospect it seems to me that the younger guys there favored jockstraps. Thank you, Andrew Christian! One twinkish young man wore a seductive white, button-up shirt, entirely unbuttoned, over his jock: I suppose he was being modest, though he needn’t have been. Finally, I made my way to the well lit room, where I found more lockers, two pool tables noticeably worse for the wear, and in the back of the room a St. Andrew’s cross and some other implements often associated with the kinkier side of things. But that equipment was not particularly high quality—certainly nothing near what you would find at The Mark in
One man asked the Huntsville man why he had come so far for the event, and the man said, “Someone I met up with online told me I could have some good sex here.” Fair enough, I thought. The men talked and discovered they had a common acquaintance. Apparently the Huntsville man’s reputation for legendary prowess in the bedroom preceded him. Now that he had been identified, the man he was speaking with led him away to one of the little rooms in the hall nearest the sling. I followed the men, walking past the room they chose, to get a better look at the smaller, private rooms. Some had their own sling, while others had simpler furniture, like platforms covered in vinyl for easy cleaning. In each room I found paper towels and cleaners, just in case. I also saw condom packets all around, for those who wanted them. Many did, as the condoms disappeared over the course of the evening. On my way back out, I could hear the Huntsville man living up to his
The Social Club Controversy Back in January, The Tennessean reported that The Social Club, a Nashville swingers club, had purchased a 22,000 square foot building in Madison in 2014 and that it would attempt to relocate there as early as February. But community backlash against the move was swift. Citizens have protested and signed petitions to prevent the relocation, and government action at the state and local levels has targeted the club and operations like it. In March, the Metro Council approved Ordinance No. BL2015-1036 prohibiting clubs as a use in the office (ON, OL, OG, and ORI) zoning districts. This action began in February and passed third reading on March 17. It was approved on March 19. Shortly thereafter, Tennessee state lawmakers passed a bill (HB0480) to prohibit a “private club” from being located within 1,000 feet of schools, churches, daycares or parks in Tennessee. Private club was defined in terms specifically targeting clubs like The Social Club. Governor Haslam signed the bill on April 9. On April 7, Ordinance No. BL20151099 was introduced in the Metro Council, passed first reading and was referred to the zoning commission. This ordinance seeks to further define the zoning restrictions that impact clubs like The Social Club, asserting “sex clubs have been shown to have a negative impact on the health, safety, and welfare of communities.” Meanwhile The Social Club is fighting back, threatening lawsuits. More proactively, they have filed a second zoning request, this time as a church. The rooms are all relabeled for “religious” purposes, though the floorplan remains the same. The United Fellowship Center, as the church would be called, would charge an annual membership fee. Metro Zoning Administrator Bill Herbert said that if the building isn’t used as a church, the city could use the courts to shut it down, but that could prove tricky, since policing the “religious” practices of consenting adults in their houses of worship could create headaches for the city. @O U T A N D A B O U T N A S H
19