Tuesday, August 14, 2007

The Aptly Named Jewel's

In the Tripping the Light Fantabulous post, jason said...
Jewel's? I'd love to hear more....sounds very (new) romantic.

Well I'd love to spill it. Here goes:

I’m not sure either New or Romantic would have described Jewel’s. It had been a hangout for drunken frat boys at some distant past and then morphed into a sinkhole of drunken bikers in the 70’s who then handed the floor over to drunken queers in the 80’s. The main draws were the cheap beers, the loud music, and the blow jobs in the backroom around the pool table. There was often a struggle between the poofs who wanted to play pool and those of us looking for l’amour.

I’m also not sure if every surface in the place was actually painted black or if the patina of filth had turned it that way, but the d├ęcor combined with the dim lights meant being able to see who you were sexing was not easy. Of course, that was part, a big part, of the charm.

I was standing in the back during one beer bust, minding my own beeswax when this guy with a big hairy chest came up to me and suggested we should go over to his house. So I pulled up my pants and we did. When we got out onto Decatur Street and I was able to get a good look at him, I was astonished how handsome he was. And he still is.

And that, little chickens, is the story of how Uncle Mrpeenee met R Man.

I gotta go


  1. Well, if that isn't romance,
    I don't know what is.

    Whereabouts was it.....do you remember?
    You know, for the walking tour.

  2. Do I remember? Sweetie, I could be dropped into the Quarter naked and blindfolded (and there was a point in my life when that could easily have happened) and I could find Jewel’s. I believe it’s still there, in fact, but in a much diminished state, on Decatur between Governor Nichols and Barracks, on the lake side, two doors down from Gov. Nic., the far end of the block from Le Garage. I stopped in when visiting sometime in the late 90’s and it had turned into some bland straight bar playing Journey. They had painted the cement floor white, I suppose in an attempt to make it as unattractive as possible. It worked.

    The plague around 1986 was tough on the gay bars in New Orleans, and Jewel’s especially. One of the owners died, Doug died, everybody died. It was a bad time. Anyway, I don’t think it was able to ever really recover, so the transformation into a straight bar was probably inevitable, but sad. And now, I feel old. Sassy, but old.

  3. I'm wondering if it's not the site of the Whirling Dervish. That sounds very much like the area...

    If so, well then, I've been there several times.
    I'm going to go out on a field trip this week I think and see what I can find.

  4. Ahhhh Jewel's, such fond mammaries...errr uhhh...memories. I too met my man there some 24 years ago. But in many ways we've led parallel lives lo these many years haven't we, dawlin'?

    It's now a straight bar nextdoor to the latest incarnation of Gargoyle's. How odd if it were actually now Whirling Dervish, but alas methinks that's nextdoor to Angeli in the next block.
    It continues with the same configuration as always and still recognizable, but surely diminished and really awful. As if the real Jewel's wasn't really awful...in the light of day, that is. It was fabulous at night, on LSD. Remember? Oh, well, maybe not?

  5. Darling, of course, I remember it all, including the story about you prancing around in your black jock strap until kebbin stopped you.



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