O&AN | May 2015

Page 18

BEHIND CLOSED DOORS Nashville’s Men’s-Only Private Club Editors Note: Both the organizers of the Male Socials, as well as the Tennessee Social Club, were contacted for comment, but neither has responded as of this time. It is not the purpose of this article to cast either in a negative light, but rather its aim is to clear up misconceptions readers might have about such clubs.

JAMES GRADY | @jamesallengrady

I consider myself a sex-positive person, but I must admit that, when I was asked by O&AN to attend a Male Socials evening—a men’s only event held at The Social Club in Nashville—I was tempted to say no. Don’t misunderstand, I’m no prude: I’ve been around and have even visited a couple of bathhouses, including the well-known Steamworks in Chicago. But dropping in anonymously at such a venue far from home, in a big city, is one thing: attending an event in my own town was something else altogether. What if someone I knew well saw me and thought worse of me? (I know it’s irrational, because they are there too, but rationality doesn’t fare well against fear!) What if I saw someone there I didn’t want to see that much of? Or someone I did? But really, the big question is did I want to share any of this with you, my readers? Ultimately, I did.

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The doors open at 6:00 p.m. for the Male Socials, but I put it off until about 8:00 p.m. because I was feeling anxious. Finally I bit the bullet and drove down to Division Street. I parked in the lot above Frugal McDougal’s—it’s a flooring place, I think—and worked up my nerve. On my way in I passed a cop who was dealing with a man acting strangely. At first it looked like he was being wired up, and I felt sure a bust was going down, so I almost left. But then I realized the man was being arrested: he wasn’t being wired up, he had taken his ankle bracelet monitor off. So I gathered my courage yet again and went inside. Approaching a window, I put down $20 and filled out a form (something I’m told you only have to do the first time). I then descended a long staircase and entered a very large room. From the outside I never would have guessed HOW large the place was. In the middle of the

OUTANDABOUTNASHVILLE.COM

MAY 2015

space is a raised platform for dancers, and there are poles for pole-dancing, and dozens of tables filled the room. But when I arrived the room was empty except for the DJ in his booth and the man behind the bar. The club is BYOB and you can deposit your bottle with the bartender, who looks after it. He also supplies snacks and has various non-alocolic drinks available. I felt bad asking even for a cup of water, since he works for tips and I had brought no extra cash. He told me I could get him next time, and knowing there probably wouldn’t be a next time, I felt worse. Holding my cup I turned and approached the DJ booth. Up a short set of stairs I could see a smaller room with tables and lockers against the back wall (you just need to bring your own lock). I wasn’t going to explore that section but at the top of the rise appeared a guy in his mid-twenties. “Hey, James!” he said with

a bright smile. “I didn’t know you were coming tonight!” I explained that it was my first time and that I hadn’t planned on telling anyone! It turns out it was his first time, too, but he’s young and cute, so someone had given him a thorough enough tour to direct me to the party. My acquaintance led me to the staircase by the bar, which took us to the second level of the club. Along the way we passed a sign expressing the Club’s rule against unwanted advances: if someone says no, you stop and don’t continue to harass them. Upstairs I found, quite distinct from the nightclub vibe the downstairs gave, what I had expected from the Male Socials at The Social Club. There was a long hallway that opened up at the end into a more open space and another door to a well lit room. Along the hall, men stood, not quietly waiting to snag a hookup or performing sex acts, but chatting pleasantly, occasionally copping a


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