Spring Break, Nashville
Last chance at college memories. It’s about midnight; the last few hours were spent combining two classic games into The Ultimate Pregame Game. The ice cream parlor we stopped by earlier gave us Lyft codes for $5 the next four rides. We’re waiting outside for the Lyfts (our group is too large to fit inside one) to use those discounts and take us across town. Finally, two cars pull up with pink stickers in their windows, and we set off to Tribe.
Tribe!
A very popular Nashville gay bar, according to Yelp. It’s shortly after midnight. The eight of us walk in to find about seven other people in the bar, sitting in two distinct groups. It’s karaoke night. A man in half drag, face beat with no wig and masculine dress, acts as DJ and moderator. We find a large table in a semi-secluded area and we take a seat.
Looking around, we spot an area of pool tables and other games. About half of us wander over but I stay. Daniel and I decide that a drink will justify the Lyft and make this empty bar feel a bit more full, so we head to the bar. We get one gin and tonic, one gin soda, and one over-priced-yet-unsurprising Nashville bill. We sit for a moment. Some man sings “Go The Distance” from Hercules, which is pretty funny in the context of a gay bar. Then after politely applauding, we head back to the table.
Karaoke Night
While someone sings “Short People,” our conversation at the table goes something like this:
H: Well it’s not quite what I expected.
A: It’s a Tuesday, what did you expect?
D: Leave her alone. It’s easy to forget that weekdays matter while on spring break.
A: Is there a bathroom?
J: Right over there. (A goes)
H: Should I start calling a Lyft back?
J: I feel like we should stick around for a bit.
D: We can make our own fun. We should sign up for karaoke! (A returns)
A: I found three men’s rooms and no women’s, is that a thing, that women can’t pee at gay bars?
J: I’m sure you just didn’t look in the right place.
H: Can we get the others and go?
A Change of Tune
Then, without anyone being able to predict what would come next, the moderator announces, “I’ll be taking this next tune. Some of you may know it, I hope you enjoy.” The TV screen announces, “This is Me” from The Greatest Showman and half of the bar (aka the eight members of our posse) squeal in excited anticipation.
For background - when we left Charlottesville VA at 5am, we started the very early morning with a full listen-through of the TGS soundtrack. We will proceed to listen to the bangers from the soundtrack – The Greatest show, The Other Side, From Now On, and This is Me – every time we get in the car for the rest of the trip. Suffice it to say, this song is a group anthem.
The four who had gone to play games arrived at the table in about two seconds, an unrealistic amount of time in which to cross a bar. We all stare as the first few notes play, waiting on the edge of our seats for the inevitable. Then the queen starts singing.
Face the Music
It happens: we are all transported to 1840s New York City. The eight of us become singing and dancing circus performers, and the queen is Golden Globe winner Keala Settle. The lights are moving around us as we dance under the stars. We march through the streets of ye olde NYC with pride, singing of self expression and acceptance. Our vocals mesh in perfect harmony, and Queen Keala leads us to tears with her heart-felt belt. As the last few notes are sung, we wrap our arms around each other and we listen and we cry.
The Song Remains the Same
When the song is over and the moderator queen says, “thank you,” we open our eyes and cheer. She is not Keala Settle. It is not 1841. We are not in New York. But I am holding closely the friends who make me feel most like myself, and for that reality I am thankful.