Life's Velvet Rope

It's really kind of sad...
Discretionary door policies.
And so it went with last night's piss party for guys under 30 -- "or look under 30." So there is wiggle room. If you're attractive enough.
Aging 36 year olds walk through the door, hoping they're still on the list... it's kind of sad to watch them get turned away... the desperate negotiations. "I came all the way from Philadelphia" or "I was on the list last time." Well, there's a reason you're not on the list anymore. You just don't cut it... You no longer look young. Or maybe you have a bit of a belly now -- your metabolism isn't what it used to be...

Isn't it great how we gays treat one another?
I can understand the reason for having a party for younger guys, but it's not a party I'd feel comfortable hosting. I don't like deciding who's pretty enough or young enough. It's cruel. But for young people who want to play with other young people and not have a creepy 50 year old man pawing at them (I'm 47!) -- it's good that they have a place to call their own. But if the person deciding who gets in and who doesn't is over 30, that's even worse. That's not the case here, though. The door person is in his 20's.

So let the young men play. But leave me out of the politics.

Sometimes it's not so simple though. The police have arrived at our private residence twice. One was the fight mentioned in a previous post (those involved left, as did the police when they realized the call was bogus and unnecessary.) The second time was for tonight's group.
Why did they show up? Because someone was turned away at the door and got pissed off. So they thought they would cause some trouble by calling 911. The police showed up, asking about an injury that apparently occurred. Again, the officers left without even entering the club. Crisis averted.
It was after the second police visitation that I realized I needed to be in the party, monitoring behavior to make sure everything was under control. And also have a sense of what's happening at the door and letting the person at the velvet rope know how to be more diplomatic. (The former door person no longer is employed here -- and happened to be drunk when the police showed up!)
Now I'm upstairs (ground floor) and downstairs (the party is in a basement) making sure everyone is safe (with regard to everything) to the best of my ability. If any trouble is brewing, I'm the first to hear about it. And hopefully I'll be there to diffuse any problems should they arise.

But back to turning people away from last night's party: the good news is that today there is an event that's open to everyone. That's an option to be presented to those not let in: just wait 24 hours and then you can get peed on! Happy now?
But being told you're no longer young... well... that's just life's velvet rope.