Bear's Bars and Brews

Mark's fingers drummed along the steering wheel of his Lexus as he headed home. He hated working in the gay district. He didn't know exactly what he did to Cheryl to gain her ire, but he had to fix it as soon as possible. She assigned him to this district for the next few months and he was long pass hating it.

It didn't help it that he was another hour from his house. "Stupid gay bastards," he said to himself. He was hit on four times that day and if he knew that he could've kicked their flamboyant asses without getting fired, he would've. "I need a drink," he grumbled.

He glanced out his window longingly. Even though he knew he was still deep in "gay-town", he was hoping to find somewhere to at least get a beer. As he drove, he started to lose hope as he passed by shop after shop proudly sporting rainbow flags and other gay paraphernalia. But luckily, before he lost all hope, he saw a black building sort of off the road that had a sign that said, "Bear's Bar and Brews". He slowed down and looked around the building before pulling into the parking lot. He saw a few Harley Davidson bikes, and most importantly, nothing that screamed gay.

He parked and headed inside. As he entered the dimly lit building, his lungs were filled with cigar smoke. He smiled, thinking to himself how gays didn't smoke cigars, only fruity cigarettes. After a turn out of the foyer, he saw the bar at the back of the room. Above it were a trio of t.v.s showing various games. He smiled again at the site of football and rugby on the screens. Behind the bar was a burly man, covered in hair and wearing a leather vest washing out a glass. Near him was another big man, mature and also hairy, with a beard that would make Grizzly Adams envious.

“What kin I git fer ya?” said the bartender in a gruff, raspy voice.

Mark smiled and quickly took a seat at the bar, “What do ya have on tap?”

The bartender smiled and grabbed a frosty mug. With a practiced motion, he started to fill the mug with a deep amber ale. “You don’t look like yer from ‘round here,” he said as he slid the beer to him.

With a smile, he accepted the beverage and replied, “No, I live on the north side. Just had to come down to the queer side of town for work and I was so pissed I had to find somewhere to drown out today. Just had to put up with so many guys hitting on me today. I swear, if I didn’t have to worry ‘bout losing my job, I would have knocked one of those dick-loving fags out today.”

The bartender simply nodded his head as he listened to Mark. He took another swig of his beer and continued, “I never liked them anyway with their floating around like the little fairies they are, talking about pop music and shit. I mean, I don’t have any problem with someone being gay, just them flaunting it around like that. I mean, men should be men and women should be women.”

He set his empty mug down and the bartender grabbed it, refilled it and set it back down in front of Mark. “What would you do if you saw a gay guy that didn’t look gay?” the man near him asked.

Mark took another huge gulp of his beer and responded, “I don’t give a flying fuck man, as long as they aren’t being all gay around me, hitting on me and shit. I’m a strict vagatarian.” Mark laughed loudly at his own joke.

“Vagatarian, huh?” the big guy next to him said as he took a swig from his mug.

“Yeah man, I can't get enough of some good pussy, ya know what I mean?” Mark said with a slight slur.
The bartender muttered quietly, “Yeah, some boy pussy.” The big guy laughed at the joke while Mark looked around in confusion. “You know,” he said to Mark, “I can tell why everyone was hitting on you. I mean, look at you.”

Mark glanced down and looked back at the huge bartender, “Whhaaat aaaaarrree yaaa talkin' bout?” Mark shook his head, wondering why the beer was affecting him like that. He usually could hold his alcohol but there was something weird about this beer. Weird, but it tasted so good he thought as he took another swig.

“No offense man, but you look like one of those guys. I know it's popular to be 'metrosexual', but is that what you really want? I mean, look at me, none of those little twinks come in here and hit on me, same with ol' Humphrey there.”

Mark looked closer at the two. He could tell what he meant. The two guys were big, burly men; the type you see in biker gangs or doing construction work. They both had really big chests and arms and both were covered in hair. Humphrey had a huge full beard while the bartender had a well-kept handlebar mustache. Mark rubbed his face in thought, feeling how bare and smooth it was. He had kept it that way for years, but maybe the guys had a point.

Humphrey then flexed his arm and Mark was blown away. He thought he had a good physique, but seeing Humphrey flex just showed him that there was another whole level of size and strength. Mark though, “I bet those gay guys don't even think about talking to him with an arm like that.”

He leaned forward slightly, suddenly feeling dizzy and started to fall. Humphrey reached out and grabbed him, his massive arms barely registering the movement. “Woah boy, looks like you had a little too much.”

“I'm not as think as you drunk I am,” Mark slurred before it clicked in his mind what he said. He tried to regain his balance but his body didn't respond.

“It's ok boy, I got ya,” Humphrey said with a smirk. “Hey Damien, can you 'take care' of our bud here?”

Damien smiled and said, “Sure thing, let's take him to the back room.”

The two big men helped Mark to a room in the back of the bar. Mark's head was swimming, but he saw the dimly lit room and the bed in the middle. There was a lamp next to the bed on a nightstand and a radio, but besides that, Mark didn't notice any other furniture or windows. They gently lowered him on the bed and Humphrey turned to leave. Damien reached over and turned on the radio and said, “Ok, go to sleep and when you wake up you can go back to your place.”

Mark was too drunk to argue, so he simply nodded. Damien smiled and walked out the room, closing the door behind him. When the door was shut, the room plunged into darkness. Mark rolled over in the bed and tried to get comfortable as the sounds of ocean waves filled the room. He listened to the waves crash against an unseen coast, and as he listened, it felt as if all the tension in his body melted away.

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