Key West always romances me swiftly. True, the queer scene is smaller than in P-Town or Palm Springs. However, gay travelers are still very visible and easily stand out among the tourist hordes thanks to pronounced biceps and noticeably less fashion missteps than their hetero counterparts who seem content to walk around wearing baggie shorts, fanny packs, and jokey t-shirts sporting phrases like “Don’t Stare at My Cock,” a nod to the city’s ubiquitous roosters. Plus, I love Key West’s “One Human Family” ethos and laissez-faire attitude toward all who visit.
What I’ll discover this weekend is that most gay visitors alternate between as little clothing as possible and none at all. Reluctantly, I put on shorts and a tank and head to dinner.