Tonight, I'm bringing my weekly booze-athon to the East Village, and I can't help but think of this quote from Dwight A. McBride's Why I Hate Abercrombie & Fitch:
"I am reminded of a trip that a close African American gay friend and I took while in graduate scholl at UCLA to a conference just up the coast at UC Santa Barbara. The first evening we spent in Santa Barbara, we decided to go out to a gay establishment to check out the local nightlife. We found ourselves at a bar with thrity-five to forty men--all of them white except the two of us. We had a cocktail, enjoyed each other's company, traded comments about the obvious stares we were receiving (trying to determine whether this was because we were new meat or because we were black). Finally, my friend pointed out to me that practically every video that had been played on the large screen television at the bar since we had arrived had been of black performers. After making this observation he quipped, 'I guess virtual blackness is okay, even unremarkable for white folks in a context like this, while our presence is an entirely different story.'"
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