You will miss the LURE

Such was the title of an email I received from Lolita.

Oh man. Will I ever miss the LURE. For the past nine years, the LURE has been my hunting ground, my Forest of Arden, my Dante-esque Inferno, my secret hiding place, and my Roman forum. The Spiegel (the Eagle) is a bar. But the LURE is a Leather Bar.

Before there was the LURE, there were other bars I went to where I could find men into S/M. I always preferred the Spike to the Eagle (although my trips to West 20th Street would usually involve perambulations between the two. And of course, there was the Altar. If I ran a leather bar, it would look a lot like the Altar.

When the LURE opened, I was already in the throes of what would be a seven year long vanilla relationship. Although I never lied to my Ex about my involvement in S/M, I wasn't exactly very forthcoming. (Although I remember early on in our relationship when he said something about fisting, and sat bolt upright in bed and turned on the light when I began a sentence, "Well, it can be a really great experience...") Anyway, I was embarking on a new way of life back then. It was all about Domestic Bliss. A partnership of equals. Stability, peace, and friendship.

First chance I got, when my Ex was out of town for the weekend, I headed to that new bar I had heard about. Not with the intention of scoring, mind you. Just to look. Just to fill my head with images of hot men in leather that would sustain me until the next occasion when he went out of town.

During these infrequent trips, going to the LURE was like when some Greek hero would go to Hades. There I would see, meet, and converse with ghosts. All the interactions I had there, and all the things that I saw, are so vivid in my imagination. Since my Ex went out of town infrequently, I would have to distill a years worth of experience into a single evening.

I remember meeting Sol. It was on one of my earliest ventures to the Lure. He was in town from LA. Things were getting hot and heavy with Solly. I was starting to panic. I didn't want to want what I wanted. My relationship with my Ex was monogamous. At one point, Sol broke away from paying attention to me, to talk to some boy. When he again fexed me with his laser beam eyes, he explained that he wanted to check in with the boy. Sol had met him here at the LURE last night, and the boy told him that he wanted Sol to beat the shit out of him and fuck him. Sol had done his best to comply. And he wanted to check in with the boy to make sure that it was good for him, too. I went weak in the knees. Then, Sol told me that he was HIV positive. I responded by telling him that I was negative, but that I didn't have a problem fucking with men who were poz as long as it was safe. Sol replied, "I do. I only go home with guys that are poz. There's so much less to worry about. Sorry." I was crushed. I was elated.

I could go on and on and on doing a critical analysis of that conversation. There's so much that was going on for me. It could be a short story written by some kinky John Cheever. And it took place at the LURE, which was the stage for the working out of what was going on for me in my deepest subconscious.

When the relationship ended, that first Friday night I went to the LURE. I was back on the scene. That night, I happened to meet up with the reigning Mr. LURE. He took me to El Mirage. So soon back in the scene and already I'm deeply into the mix. (After I got involved in GMSMA, I would get to know the then Reigning Mr. LURE better, as he is and was a member of the Board.) At El Mirage, I was shocked to see walking in the door behind me two guys I knew from church. I've subsequently gotten to know them pretty well, too.

The LURE made everything so easy. There it all was. There was the leather community of the Greater New York Metropolitan Area. It's probably an error to totally equate the two--there are certainly plenty of serious BDSM players I know who rarely, if ever, darken the door of the LURE--but I don't think I'm off by much in saying that.

Now, the LURE is much more of the Roman forum than it is Dante's Inferno. It's where I go to see and be seen. There are a whole host of men that I know, and who hold a very special place in my heart, just from going to the LURE. What will happen to those connections? How many people will I see years from now at MAL or someplace, embrace warmly, and say, "Oh my God! How have you been? I haven't seen you since the LURE closed!" How many people will I never see again?


Thinking about the Eagle, I get bitter. I feel like doing an Open Letter to the management, perhaps inviting sign-ons. Hence forth, they're the only game in town. The time is now for them to step up to the plate. Why doesn't anyone take the Eagle seriously? Because they don't take themselves seriously. The upstairs bar should be reserved--not on Thursdays, not on weekends, but every night of the week--exclusively for men who are wearing something leather besides a Kenneth Cole belt. Or something. Bar dress codes can be problematic. "No sneakers or athletic shoes": What about somebody wearing a singlet looking to get into a hot wrestling scene. "One article of leather clothing besides boots": And listen to rubber enthusiasts howl. Basically what it takes is to plant somebody at the door as gatekeeper who will be able to look someone up and down, decide if they've got it going on or not, and not be afraid to say 'no.' This person will become the most important person in the leather community in New York City. Loved, hated, and feared. But it's gotta be done. At a leather bar in Chicago (I forget which one), I was once turned away from the Leathermen Only part of the bar because I was wearing jump boots, a gray tank top, and... chinos. (I was in town on business, and somehow I had neglected to throw so much as a pair of jeans into my suitcase.) I begged. I explained. I made promises of sexual favors. I offered to take off my chinos and just wear my boxers. ...and I sat in the part of the bar open to the general public. Am I resentful? Do I bear a grudge? Not a bit. I have nothing but admiration and respect for that man and that bar.

I will miss the LURE. I may even go so far as to shed a tear when I'm there for what I know will be the last time. If my life were to be made into a one act play, I can't think of any better setting than the LURE. That's where it's all happened. The important parts anyway. The parts that count.


I feel we all owe a debt of gratitude to the people that made the LURE happen. Clearly, nobody got rich here. Quite the reverse, I'm sure. These past nine years have been a great service performed for the Leather Community. And you've done something great. When you're welcomed into Valhalla, you've all earned a place at the head of the table.

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