I Asked Out Other Men In Places Like The Public Library And A Straight Bar — Here's How It Went

My name is Pernell, and lately, I've only been gay in theory...not in practice. Since I've started dating, I've found it too terrifying to approach other guys I'm attracted to. It's likely residual trauma from growing up closeted in Texas that I haven't done the work to heal despite living in Los Angeles for over a decade. It's why I've stuck to dating apps (Grindr) or standing in the corner of the bar until some dude hopefully makes the first move. I want to change that.

So, in honor of Pride month, I put my brave gay pants on, got off the apps, and asked crushes out in the real world in five different IRL places — a speed dating event, the library, a gay bar, a music festival, and a "straight" bar. Here's how it went:

I wanted to ease into flirting in real life, so I went to a queer speed dating event hosted by the cinema downtown. Thirteen men showed up. There were six tables, so we rotated and spent five minutes talking to the other single man each round. I felt pretty nervous, but it made it easier knowing that we were all open to a connection.

With most of the men, the conversation flowed. I kind of surprised myself. There was no need to fall back on the icebreakers on each table. I opened every round by asking what brought them to the event or how their Pride month was going and went from there. However, there were three guys who it was a challenge to talk or flirt with. Particularly Dater #9 — he looked like the dad from Inside Out. And honestly, I was waiting the entire time to talk to him.

The result: I matched with three guys, including the dad from Inside Out. Sadly, he left my IG follow request on read. There were no follow-up dates, but I still felt I at least hit my goal of wanting to make a connection with a total stranger. The context of the speed dating event put me at extreme ease. It was a nice warmup of what was to come.

The Hollywood hills looked beautiful from my seat at the library. But the view I was invested in was of the guy in khaki shorts next to me — he was halfway through a matte gray hardcover book with no dust jacket and an orange spine. I sat beside him for 30 minutes to the soundtrack of him turning pages, my heart racing, and scattered coughs in the library. I tried to mine my brain for an easy excuse to talk to him. But all I could focus on was how quiet the library was and how everyone might hear him turn me down. Eventually, he left. A wave of shame washed over me: It sucks to feel unconfident.

And then I caught someone else's eye. He wore a green button-up with zebras on it and white eyeglasses. He smiled first. After three rounds of eye contact and an announcement that the library was closing in 15 minutes, I walked up to his table and asked him what he was working on. "I'm editing a book of poems I finally finished writing," he said. I asked if I could read one of his poems. He slid the printed draft over to me, and I took a seat. I liked what I'd read. So, I asked him if he wanted to grab a drink from the bar up the street. "I can do that." While he was a lot older than me, it felt easy talking to him. He told me about growing up in Chicago, and I shared about growing up in Texas. He paid for our beers. Before we split at the crosswalk, he thanked me for talking to him first. "I like it when guys are confident," he said and gave me his number. Me? Confident? Well, he didn't need to know about earlier.

For my next trial, I went solo to a gay bar downtown during their country line dancing night. As I walked up the stairs and heard the music blasting, I felt my heart beating fast. I guess even cowboys get nervous sometimes. Since it's a gay bar, I didn't have to worry about a guy retaliating if I hit on him. I only had to worry about him rejecting me solely based on my personality and/or appearance...which somehow made it even harder? But I had my brave gay pants on, y'all.

A guy in a gray tank, silver chain, and light jeans rocking stubble stood out. He was hot, and he was keeping up with the line dances. He stepped off the floor for a break, and I went up to him. "You look great out there," I said. "How do you know all the steps?" He told me they teach lessons every month. I already knew that. I just needed an opener. I quickly introduced myself to establish rapport. He shook my hand, told me more about the monthly country night, and gave me a line dancing tip: "Pay attention to where their bodies move — when they turn and step. Then add the feet and arms. Those are toppings." Once I learned he was a go-go dancer at the bar, I felt I was playing out of my league. But three times, he stood by me, and each time, we briefly talked. So when I saw him at the bar alone an hour before close, I asked him if I could get him a drink. "I'd be down for that," he said. Twenty minutes later, we were making out on the patio.

Here's what happened next: We left separately. At closing time, I left the bar with an old friend I bumped into. We were talking about lives post-college when a guy in a pink hoodie said bye to my friend. I recognized him from the bar. As he walked away, my friend poked me in the ribs. "Dude, that guy likes you." "And I like him." Before I knew it, my feet were moving toward him. I think the only reason I was bold was because I was warmed up from talking with the go-go dancer. "Hey, I'm Pernell," I said once I caught up to him. "Would you wanna walk around downtown for a bit with me?"

It was the morning of the last day of EDC Las Vegas. I hadn't gotten to explore Camp EDC much yet, so I was just walking around and checking out the activities schedule posted outside each tent. A guy in a bucket hat and open Dodgers jersey was also studying the agenda. "You look like you know what's good to do," I said to him. "What do you recommend?" I didn't have enough brain power to be decisive. "The goat yoga is pretty cool," he said, "but I'm gonna get breakfast and watch Sunday morning cartoons." Cartoons was all I needed to hear. I plopped on the grass and watched SpongeBob SquarePants. When I looked behind me, I saw the guy. So I asked if I could sit next to him. Maybe it was because we were watching the newer SpongeBob episodes, but he kept asking questions. I started wondering if he liked guys, too.

We decided to split from the SpongeBob screening since neither of us were laughing. Instead, we strolled around Camp EDC while he held his parasol above me for shade. I said it reminded me of Bridgerton. Then, he started talking in a (bad) British accent. I laughed. By then, it was like a string was pulling us together. "I think I'm just trying to find excuses to keep hanging with you," I said, two hours into our stroll. He smiled. "Do you want to get on the ferris wheel?" That's where we kissed. A month later, when we were both back in LA, I took a shot and asked him out. Maybe we could be more than festival baes. He said yes, but we've rescheduled so often that any heat has cooled down by this point.

A non-gay bar was my last place to try out my experiment of trying to ask out other guys IRL. I knew it was going to be tough because of my own hang-ups — if the guy isn't into or open to other men hitting on him, there's potential danger. But I live in Los Angeles, a city responsible for most of Charli XCX's streams, so I took the plunge and hit a karaoke bar with a straight friend for support. At 8 p.m., we were two of seven people in the bar, including the bartender. An hour and a half later, two guys walked in. The one in the red Death Cab for Cutie shirt caught my interest. I was torn. I wanted to approach him, but the bar was quieter than the library. As my friend and I ordered another round, he asked my opinion if he should date his coworker. I decided to lean over and ask the two guys what they thought. An hour later, we were all at the same booth, and the guy in red asked if I wanted to go to the next bar with them. I did. We're still texting.

My final takeaways: Challenging myself to ask out or at least talk to other men in public really changed my perception of flirting. It's a skill, and when it's done right (and appropriately), it can make people feel good regardless of whether or not my interest is reciprocated. I think we all know what it's like to sit at a bar or public space and feel invisible. It can feel good to feel seen. I also learned that the guys I cared to see again were the ones I connected with over shared interests — the only way to find those interests is to talk to them. That's not easy, which is why I want to keep practicing conversation with strangers, regardless of initial attraction. That way when I do want to approach a guy, it's a little less scary.

I'm glad I tried this out. It helped me discover some untapped confidence within me. And it also reminded me that I live in a predominantly LGBTQ+ friendly city. I don't have to worry as hard about my safety. That's a blessing I don't wish to waste.

What are your own experiences of asking out people in public spaces? Let me know in the comments.

Looking for more LGBTQ+ or Pride content? Then check out all of BuzzFeed's posts celebrating Pride 2024.