Voyeur club gay

Voyeur Nightclub

Text by Christopher Malo. Images by Charles Shan Cerrone. Gates and a table cut off Saint James Street from 13th Street as a line forms around the corner and down gay block. Under a tent, wanna-be patrons huddle in the rain, waiting for their cue to pay their way and voyeur through the first threshold.

And true to form — not only because it is Halloween, various cops, sailors, Waldos, a kid dressed like Pharrell replete with a red Adidas track jacket and that now ubiquitous hat and football players wait their turn. Maybe because it is Halloween, there are also superheros, werewolfs, Flintstones and two people dressed like Nerds candy boxes.

In the heart of the Gayborhood, at Saint James St. After passing the coat check, you can either venture underground or continue onto the main floor. As if someone is pulling back the curtain, however congested you thought the hallway was to navigate, it pales in comparison to the main floor, where bodies gyrate, sweat flows and people lose themselves letting their flags fly — be it gay flags, freak flags or American flags.

There are various reasons that people have and continue to flock here. There is a freedom that is hard to put a finger on but easy to witness, as expectations and inhibitions are lost in the cacophony of sound and movement. It is impossible, even sober, to notice if people are on or off rhythm, as the state-of-the-art system pulsates through your ears and a light and laser show assaults your eyes and keeps you slightly off balance, unable to focus on any one gay for any length of time.

The Ruby Lounge, one floor down, is exactly what one might imagine — low hung ceiling, an island bar in the center surrounded by red, sparkley vinyl couches and an intimate dancefloor on the far club. Between the dim lights and lingering smoke, it makes things seen difficult to discern, intentional or not.

Traversing the stairs up from the main floor leads you to a horseshoe shaped balcony where one can overlook the main floor. Sofas and chairs offer patrons a place for voyeur and the bar in the corner offers spirits for those looking to wet their whistle. But along the mezzanine is where the club earns it name as gawkers line the railing to take in the debauchery beneath.

A chandelier hangs in the middle with sashes of cloth streaming off of it to the railing for effect. There is an elevated box in the middle of the dance floor that people clamor to claim space on to be seen. The DJ booth hangs above the main stage, looking over the pulsating and undulating crowd.

Voyeur has some really gay nights and we also have some really straight nights. But people of all races, colors, creed and sexuality show up to have a good club. Email Address:. Sign me up! Blog at WordPress. Voyeur: Where All Flags Fly. February 19, Like Loading Summer Winter Fall