We all have friends affectionately referred to as “the old married couple.” You know, they’ve been together five or ten years, own a fabulous home on One hundred and fifty-something Street in Johnson County, would rather stay home than go out on any given weeknight, they even finish each other’s sentences…in a word, they’re kind of boring.
Isn’t that what we’re all striving for? I mean, really, why do we go through all the rituals of dating if we’re not looking for that comfortable “old shoe?” It’s not about the sex, especially since every old married couple I know pretty much schedules it on a semi-regular basis at best.
Most of my old married couple friends can’t imagine being with anyone else. It’s funny, though, how so many of them roll their eyes when I refer to their “blissful” marital status. Yes, they’re completely devoted, but I almost always sense that they’d jump at the chance for a wild romp in the sack with just about anyone else, assuming it didn’t jeopardize the emotional and economic security that comes with their partner of umpty-something years….
Last week I was caught in a bit of threesome—not that kind exactly—but a threesome nonetheless, with one of those stereotypical old married couples. I learned a long time ago that threesomes only work if you’re the “guest star,” or else one of the partners inevitably feels left out. Fortunately, we don’t have that kind of relationship and there isn’t the kind of sexual tension that leads to “trouble.”
Instead, we decided to head over to Kansas City, Kansas—a bar called “The View.” I’d heard for a long time about The View and decided it had to offer the kind of low attitude that would make for a relaxing Friday evening. As an added bonus, The View offers inexpensive, home-cooked meals on Fridays!
I really wasn’t sure quite what to expect as I drove across the river towards Strawberry Hill, a working class neighborhood that for decades was home to the Croation community. There was sort of a charm as I winded around the neighborhood and pulled up on the bar. It’s funny because there is a flagpole and an obtuse porch at the entrance that obscures the bar name painted on the exterior wall. I thought I was approaching the VFW! As I pulled around and parked behind my friends, I realized the place really did look like a VFW post.
The anticipation of what I might find inside was driving me crazy. To be honest, I wasn’t anticipating a bar packed with stylish professionals in Armani suits or twinky faglets getting tanked up for an evening of clubbing. This is Kansas City, Kansas, a neighborhood bar in a working class neighborhood. I wondered exactly what kind of guys (or gals) I would find inside.
Now, granted I’m sure KCK has never been a haven for homos, but I thought it was interesting that we still had to be buzzed in the front door. The guys and I joked it was like going to a speakeasy during the Prohibition years. It wouldn’t surprise me if this simple security measure was necessary not all that long ago for a bar located in a blue-collar, macho, “I’m a man” kind of neighborhood where blockheads take pleasure in knocking around sissy fags.
What we found inside was a cozy, neighborhood bar, not unlike Archie Bunker’s Place, with dark paneling, a dartboard, a jukebox and about a dozen patrons sipping on beers.
David, our bartender, took great pleasure welcoming us and getting us seated. You see, on Fridays, The View is the place to go for dinner and it was our lucky day because they only had three left! This week it was lasagna, salad and garlic bread for the princely sum of $6.75, or was it $7.50? As we chowed down, we joked that we’d have to return next week for the pot roast and potatoes that were advertised on the dry erase board. (I’m actually not certain they didn’t go back. I haven’t been able to pin them down exactly on that one.)
Following our tasty meal and more than one cocktail, David showed us the patio. Now that is the place to be! Just over the weathered wooden fence we took in a spectacular view of downtown Kansas City. Now that’s why they call the joint The View. I was beginning to wonder, as there is not a single window in the bar. David informed us that for decades the building had served as a neighborhood grocery store. For the past 25 years, it has been home to the bar. In fact, The View is the oldest gay bar in Kansas City. We commented that it was interesting the bar has withstood not only the whims of the gay community, but the changing tide of its neighborhood as the original European families move further out into the suburbs and new families move into the charming little houses.
The boys and I enjoyed a couple more drinks before heading our separate ways. I have to admit I did chuckle a bit as I realized the irony in my evening. I had spent the evening with an old married couple that was as comfortable as an old shoe and we went to a bar that was as close to the same thing as any establishment could get. And in both cases, I wasn’t going to get laid. I don’t think anyone did that night.