Robert sighed and then looked shocked as he sampled a bowl of risotto infused with the flavor of fried pork skins.
“This is as crazy and beautiful as Baton Bob,” he said.
“The puritanism is really nothing new,” he continued. “Don’t forget the ridiculous raid on the Eagle a few years back. Then there was Shirley Franklin’s war on the Metro bar.
“And long before that, in the early ‘80s, Solicitor General Hinson McAuliffe closed over 40 sex businesses in Fulton County. Now, newly incorporated towns like Johns Creek, Sandy Springs, and Brookhaven have been on anti-sex rampages, too. The whole country is moving this way.”
“Honestly, though,” Lee said, “I know the arrest of Baton Bob was not unprecedented, according to what I’ve read. In fact, he moved to Atlanta from St. Louis in 2004 after several altercations with police there.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that, but so what?” Robert replied. “I remember when he first started his gig in Atlanta. I belonged to a gym near a corner where he often performed. You can probably guess how people reacted to him. Many gay men thought he was disgusting while straight people seemed to totally enjoy him.”
“So it always goes,” Lee said.
Just then, Gillespie, a “Top Chef” contestant and former chef at Woodfire Grill, rolled a cart their way. Gillespie, who is straight but has a huge following of gay bears, was carving North Carolina-style barbecued pork ribs, which he served over peaches-and-cream slaw.
The restaurant’s chefs and servers bring shareable small plates to the table for consideration. Diners choose what they like, similar to dim sum meals. Be warned: if you have your eye on a particular dish, you might have to wait as much as an hour to see it come around.
As Robert and Lee worked themselves through six plates, they talked about the celebration of their 50th birthdays in two weeks.
Robert founded the Atlanta Food Porn Supper Club a year earlier with the hope of scoring a boyfriend before he hit 50. Lee, a gay freak show operator with a theology degree, had appeared at a club dinner wearing makeup, looking androgynous and filling the room with the scent of a peculiar cologne.
The birthday party would be held under the tent of Lee’s freak show on Cheshire Bridge. “Wouldn’t it be great, if we could convince Baton Bob to come?” Lee said. Robert vowed to hunt him down and invite him.
“But what about the food?” Lee asked.
“Considering the location, your freak show, I think it should be mainly odd, at least in its appearance,” Robert said. “Sort of like, um, you.”
“And you,” Lee shot back, laughing. “It should be very gay. In any case, Shawtina can help. He is a pastry chef as well as the best midget performer in America.”
“Great,” Robert said. “I’ll be in charge of getting the food together. I’m thinking of a cake featuring Alex Wan’s face, for sure. I’ll see what Shawtina can do and maybe I’ll also ask some good caterers and restaurant chefs to provide the weirdest things they can make for the least money.”
Lee reached across the table to pat Robert’s hand. “One day, we’ll marry and you’ll join my family of freaks,” he said. “You’ll see.”
Robert smiled.
Recommended
Gunshow, 924 Garrett St. (in Glenwood Village), 404-380-1886, www.gunshowatl.com: You’ll not find another restaurant in our city that is so inventive. Although the service style is inspired by dim-sum dining, the food here is comfy, mainly Southern, with decided twists and unexpected bursts of flavor. You’ll need a reservation. Oh, the name of the restaurant is confusing. Maybe it relates to real guns. Or maybe it relates to Gillespie’s heavily tattooed arms.