Male dancers in gay club

When it comes to gay nightlife in Chicago, the Lucky Horseshoe occupies a category all its own. My ritual is always the same: scoop up an empty stool and scan the room to figure out which comely lad in a jockstrap shall be the recipient of the wad of singles the bartender has handed me. There are straight dancers and gay dancers, and you can decode their orientation based on their moves.

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The hetero ones are rigid, with their shoulders slightly hunched forward—and they beam from ahem cheek to cheek when a blur advancing toward the stage turns out to be a woman. The gay ones tend to be transfixed by their reflection in the mirror and how perfectly their moves mimic those of their dearest diva. At times, these boys are so captivated by their own performances they barely register when someone slips a fiver into the waistband of their jock.

The ensemble members come in all shapes and sizes, ages, and ethnicities as well. Madonna Otter, an art student with a large gap-toothed grin, has an obsession with lace-up jockstraps, which accentuate his plump and furry tush. What I enjoy more is getting to know the dancers and hearing their stories. Rumor has it one dancer met an older gentlemen within a couple hours of his very first shift, grabbed his gear, and left with him, never to be heard from again.

Several dancers have shown me their wieners, a few have given me their phone number or hit me up later on Grindr. As much as I can get turned on, I feel equally protective of them. I never actually come here. Printed in ink. Printed without a paywall. Credit: Sunshine Tucker When it comes to gay nightlife in Chicago, the Lucky Horseshoe occupies a category all its own.