Sitting in my car, smoking another cigarette, I stared at the red neon sign blinking in the bar’s tinted window.
Reggie’s. Ladies welcome.
Yes, and on every Friday night, queers were welcome too. This was the only bar in the east end that opened its doors to LGBT people on specific nights. Reggie’s was an old tavern, a small place with two or three pool tables, an original half-moon wooden bar, complete with tacky all-year-long red Christmas lights strung around the ceiling. The usual patrons of the place were guys I worked with, but when that rainbow flag came up in the window on Friday nights, those guys wouldn’t have entered the place, even at gun point.
I’d be pretty safe from being spotted here tonight. At least, I hoped so. But then again, I knew the guys in my soccer team were on
