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is one thing that was and probably still is quite common (unfotunately) in the Gay/Lesbian community. There was one couple in paricular that I knew quite well that suffered with this problem. The one partner being a level headed, intelligent man and the other an arrogant, self important and bullish man. We shall call them John and Tom, John used to come to the bar every once in a while with a black eye or two and we knew what was going on but he would never admit to it. One day John arrived with more of a beating than normal and I had just about seen enough. Taking John aside I told him that he did not have to put up with the constant beating and that he should seek help or leave and if neither of them was an option to defend himself. John told me that he was not a a fighter and that he did not want to leave. Now, I am not one for physical violence but I do believe that people should defend themselves from abuse. I told John that the next time Tom goes to hit him that he should hit him first as hard as he could, he said he did'nt know if he could do that. I took John's arm and showed him where to hold it for a first strike. We had a couple laughs as he tried to spar with arms that were not used to fighting "ever". After that day it was quite a while before we saw any violence between the two of them until one night that John arrived with two black eyes and his arm in a sling. Along with the black eyes and the broken hand, John had a smirk that went from ear to ear and we did not have to wait long for the reason for it. Just after John's arrival, Tom arrived with a nose cast on. There was never anymore beatings applied by Tom again, although the relationship did not last long after that incident. In this case it seemed to work out in the end and I would not recommend ever again to someone to do what I told John to do, but I felt so good.
Gordy T. scrambles through the packed crowd calling out "Yes dear, and you and you....?"; he could take fifty orders on his way back to the bar and not miss an order or forget where they were supposed to go on his way back. Everyone loved him (maybe not all) but most that I knew did. I have never witnessed another waiter to this day that could hold a candle to him; Gordy could be nasty to you and you would love him even more and want more (a bitch with class). After the diningroom closed TheHeidelberg became a gay hangout; Gordy T., David D (Bartender)., Laurel(waiter) and Ricky(waiter) (both now deceased), Jimmy, Danny McM.(chef),and another bartender ( forgotten his name) who was not gay but got along really well (also had a great sense of humour); he looked like a regimental seargent major(RSM). A host of others over the years including my friend Wayne, worked there (not bad for a straight bar!).
Heinze Morstadt and his wife did not seem to mind as long as you didn't flaunt your sexuality (if you passed that boundary, you were told to leave) and at that time we put up with the rules to a degree. Heinze at the same time, was a likeable sort of guy; I think after years had passed he mellowed and actually came to understand the gay community at least a little. I had a few one on one chats with him and sometimes his wife included and both were very cordial. I am not in any way saying that I agreed with his policies at the time.
TheHeidelberg to say the least was a hoot, there was no "loud" music and people had a chance to talk. People still got loaded but at least there was some conversation which I tended to miss in the disco.
The Heidelberg had a thing called a "LumberJack Special" and if you ate 2 the next were free. These were large subs, bigger than any shops around town now. I ate 2 and then one more and one more; Heinze stared at me as I ate them because I don't think he ever thought a skinny boy like me could eat so much. I had a country appetite in those days; don't know where I put them but did.
During the day The Heidelberg was great place for a steak, I was invited in one day by my friend Danny McM.(chef) for a lunch that he prepared himself. To say the steak and all the fixings were delish would be an understatement. It was on this occasion that I had my first conversation with Heinze. He was(is) a softspoken man (not like I had heard upstairs in the bar) and I was surprised at how polite he was because of what I had heard and seen of him in the past. We talked for about 2 hours and touched on a lot of subjects(even about being gay).
Before arriving on the GAY scene, I was quite happy and content right where I was ( for the most part ). Kathy was a tall (about a half inch taller than me ), good looking and voluptuous woman with a good job and a Dodge Charger. I met her while chatting on a CB ( Citizen Band ) radio ( back when you actually talked while chatting ). My handle was either " Private Eye " or " The Dog Man " ( Breaker - Breaker... 24280 the Private Eye is online...come on back ! ). Kathy and I started a hot online convo one nite and after I had told her that I wanted to get into her CHARGER !!!!.... We hit it off right away and before I knew it, I was living in her place. My clothes were kept in the closet in the spare room so her mother did'nt think I was living there; I think there was no pulling the wool over the Dad's eyes though. According to Kathy, a private investigator and guard were not good enough for her daughter so we kept our little secret.
I was never one for a lot of talking at home, I found that after I had said what I had done for the day and " How was your day? " ; there was'nt much more that I wanted to say except things that I may have found interesting. One day as I sat back reading the newspaper; Kathy decided to get my goat by saying casually " I'm pregnant ! " and knowing what she was up to, I just replied " That's nice. " and turned the page. She stewed for quite a while before opening up into a tantra of why we don't talk more. I never could figure out why some people feel that talking all the time is a necessity for a relationship to be good. Being in the same room " to me " made me feel good just knowing she was there. Kathy started drinking more and the beer bottles piled up by the back door and I started to hate that she was half drunk all the time when at home. One day I had enough and put my fist thru the diningroom table and broke the pile of bottles by the back door and left. Kathy's father offered me a place to stay until I was resituated but I declined ( living in the same house as her mother was not an option ). Kathy's father and I got along great as he was navy and knew my dad and I had been army.
Living alone again in an apartment that I rented from my boss; I would soon have a close encounter that never came to fruition with another guy that worked in the same company but we both passed out before anything could happen. It all seemed like a bad dream at the time and I never gave it another thought and neither did he.