Page 223 - Some Dance to Remember

Some Dance to Remember 193

meat on the hoof, and they have the confidence that comes from getting
paid for what they are.” He shot a look around the room. “When was the
last time either of you ever got paid for being what you are?”
“I live quite handsomely, thank you,” January said.
“Listen, lady,” Solly said, “A Jew knows a Jew. You’ve got princess
engraved all over you.”
“Ignore him,” Ryan said. “He’s on a sugar rush.”
Solly took a pot shot at Kick. “Gay muscle queens kill me.”
Ryan hoped Solly might tip his hand to January about the real cause
of his dislike for Kick. More than anything, it was the secret Ryan wanted
to know.
“I like blue-collar, working-class muscle,” Solly said. “I despise these
mondo steroid freaks. You want some facts and figures for your documen-
tary? Five gyms compete for business in the Castro. All filled to capacity.
All gay as shit. The boys can’t even keep the names of the gyms straight.”
“Tell every negative thing you know,” Ryan said. He wanted January
to focus on the upside of the emerging new Castro.
Solly sipped his Coca-Cola. “Miss January here should see both sides
of this gay muscle, forgive me, homomuscular, trip.”
“Body maintenance has become important. The new gays are into
health. The gyms give balance to drugs and bars.” Ryan tried to correct
Solly’s direction, but Solly was one person he could never control.
“I’m fascinated,” January said. “I love antagonism.”
“For instance,” Solly said, “there’s the gym called The Muscle System.
The pump-and-pearl girls call that The Muscle Sisters. The City Athletic
Club is The Sissy Athletic Club. The Pump Room satirizes its own name.
Not everyone who is homosexual, you see, is as taken with muscle as is
Ryan. But then he sees a twenty-inch bicep not only for what it is, but for
what it symbolizes.”
“You’re such a fundamentalist,” Ryan said.
“No pain, no gain,” Solly shot back.
“Please, go on,” January said.
“I shall,” Solly said. “That interior design shop on Castro, next to
Cliff’s Variety, called Work Wonders? That’s the perfect name for a gay
gym. All you guys who all failed gym class, huffing and puffing like the
straight guys you desired. Trying to keep your pecs pumped up for Sat-
urday night. If it wasn’t so tiring, you’d be funny. Gays could be national
heroes. We could solve the energy crisis if we hooked your Nautilus
machines to a generator.”
He threw a wink at Ryan. He wanted in his own way to play devil’s

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