I was telling my sister about how when Brenna and I first moved to Seattle, we inadvertently popped into a bar which was the kind of bar you pop into if you are a lady who likes ladies. I told her the name of the bar, and she laughed and laughed. This wasn't merely a gay bar; it was apparently a very gay bar, one you might not be gay enough to enter. She said it had a "bath house" downstairs, which I was surprised to learn, because I thought that was more or less an urban legend. It was a striking piece of imagery: the town I knew, undergirded by erotic warrens jam-packed with unregulated sex.
