Book Title: CLUBBED: A Story of Gay Love: Trials, Tribulations and Triumphs

Author: Robert A. Karl

Publisher: Robert A. Karl

Cover Artist: Hussnain Designz

Release Date: April 13, 2021

Genre: Gay Historical Fiction

Themes: Coming Out, LGBTQ+ Community, Gay Club Life, Marriage Equality, AIDS

Length: 74 547 words/ 246 pages

This is the first book in a planned series of three. It does end on a cliffhanger. This book mostly explores gay life before the AIDS pandemic began. The book ends just as HIV is beginning to infect the gay community.

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Everyone at the club has a story, and every story deserves to be told.

 

Blurb

Sex. Drugs. Lust. Courage. Loyalty. Betrayal. Drag Divas. Hustlers. Porn. Gogo Boys. Anything is possible at the gay club scene. Even LOVE.

Joey, fresh from the suburbs, gets involved in the gay club scene in Philadelphia during the late 1970s and early 80s. He shares the stories of a diverse cast of characters, including his own special love story. Everyone at the club has a story, and every story deserves to be told.

 

Now that I think about it, the idea was genius for its time. The bar was divided into two parts. If you entered from the back alley, you were in a straight bar, complete with female strippers in their skimpy thongs and glitter pasties. That scene was a sure draw for the frat boys in this small college town in rural Pennsylvania.

But if you entered by way of the bright red door on the main street, you entered a forbidden world, a gathering place for the people the locals called “faggots” and “queers.”

I was drawn to that red door. I walked by it hundreds of times, usually on the other side of the street. My imagination ran wild with what might go on behind that door. I wasn’t sure that I would ever find out. The peer pressure to be straight, to act straight and to hate “the fags” was intense.

I felt the pressure from friends, family and all of straight society. For example, if I was in the car with my father and he saw anyone who looked out of the ordinary, he would let loose with a string of profanities, talking about the homos and the queers.

“Look at that, can you believe it?” he’d shout at me. “That guy looks as queer as a three-dollar bill!”

I hated when he talked like that. It made me uncomfortable, and I felt a little guilty. I wasn’t sure what I was, but there was no one I could talk to. No one at school. None of my friends. Certainly not my dad.

When I first started feeling different than other people, I didn’t even have the words to describe how I was feeling. In my imagination, I was the only person in the world who felt like this. I was sure that something was very wrong with me. The best word to describe my feelings at the time was that I felt completely alone.

As I got older, and started to hear words like queer, homo and faggot, it was so clear to me that anyone who fit that description was someone I was expected to hate, to despise, since they were somehow inferior beings. I didn’t know why I was supposed to feel that way, but I tried my best to act in the way I was being taught to act.

I had no idea what these fags and homos did to make everybody hate them. But that hate came through loud and clear.

The other guys at school were no different than my father. As we reached that age where guys start getting interested in the opposite sex, I acted like I was interested in them too. For a while, I even managed to convince myself that I liked a couple of girls.

All through high school, I was popular. But even as it seemed that half the girls in my class were getting pregnant by senior year, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything more than make out with a girl. Clearly, my male classmates were far beyond my level of experience, since I was still a virgin on graduation day.

A virgin, but not totally inexperienced.

I was on the swim team in high school, and one day, another guy and I had to do extra laps after practice because we had been late arriving. All the other guys on the team had already showered and left the gym by the time the two of us hit the showers. Even the coach was gone.

Two of us, naked and alone together in the shower room. I couldn’t help myself; I just had to watch as he washed himself. Incredibly, he got himself excited as he washed his private parts. He looked in my direction, but avoided looking me directly in the eye. Then he turned to face away from me, as I watched him work on himself, till he brought himself to climax. At that point, he finished showering, wrapped a towel around his waist, and went out to the locker area where he quickly got dressed and left.

I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I wondered what he was thinking. Why did he do that in front of me? Was he a queer? Was I? I mean, I watched the whole thing. I couldn’t stop watching and honestly, I wanted to see more and know more.

That wasn’t the last time I saw him. We had one class together, Chemistry. I hated that class. I didn’t really understand the concepts and I had no interest in trying to understand. But after that scene in the shower, I had a sudden interest in attending Chemistry. Funny, right?

One Friday afternoon, right after lunch, I was looking forward to the opportunity to stare at his back during class, when I saw him waiting outside the classroom.

“Hey, man,” he greeted me at the door.

Without realizing it, I looked him up and down, my eyes pausing at his crotch, before I realized what I was doing and quickly met his eyes. I saw his smile as he realized I was checking him out.

“Hey, Brainiac,” I returned the greeting, using the nickname that everyone used, acknowledging his status as the smartest kid in the class.

“Joey, I’m sick of school today. I’m thinking about cutting and heading out for a little fun this afternoon. You up for it?”

He didn’t have to ask me twice. I only went to Chemistry because of him. If he was cutting, there was no reason at all for me to go.

We tried to sneak out of the building without being seen. Since it was Friday, there was no need to stop for any books or backpacks. The weekend meant no homework.

“Can I trust you?” he asked me as we reached the street.

“Of course,” I answered, not sure what he was thinking.

I was surprised when he reached into his pocket, pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered me one. Although a swimmer, I was already a heavy smoker, easily ignoring the warnings about the dangers of smoking. No one cared about what might happen in 40 or 50 years. At least, I didn’t.

“I have a secret spot,” he said, almost in a whisper, though there was no one anywhere near us. “Can I show you?”

“Cool,” I said.

 

 

Robert A. Karl is a native son of Philadelphia, PA, the City of Brotherly Love. He earned his M.Ed. from Temple University and worked for the School District of Philadelphia as a teacher and technology specialist for 30 years. He also taught courses in Educational Technology at the Temple University College of Education.

Losing many friends to the AIDS pandemic dramatically altered his world. Living in the LGBTQ community provided the historical background for his first novel. His work is a tribute to the incredible diversity in the LGBTQ community.

Currently retired and living in San Juan, PR, he is the proud Gay Dog Dad to Zuna, the Awesome Boston Terrier.

 

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