A League of Her Own
A League of Her Own is in the downstairs space of Pitchers, its gay big brother bar, both under the same ownership. The two are connected by a series of stairways and halls, effectively creating one large gay and lesbian sports bar. Three different screens play a football game, and one is connected to an N64, though no one is playing. In between wooden ceiling beams, string lights create a rainbow flag.
I immediately notice a couple making out against one of the screens, which is always a good sign. The bouncer looks a little bored and keeps checking her phone, and tonight’s bartender is in tight black athleisure. The taps are broken but I grab a Miller and pull up a seat in front of a wall of queer and trans icons. The black and white photos include JoJo Siwa, Marsha P Johnson, Tessa Thompson, Danica Roem, and inexplicably, Hilary Clinton and Ruth Bader Ginsberg. I guess if you’re in DC, you have to show some deference to political girl power. Some are signed, including Lea DeLaria’s, who I know was here recently for The Lesbian Bar Project. Two small trans flags hang above this gallery, but the rest of the space is dominated by rainbows.
A “Black Trans Lives Matter” flag hangs along the back wall, which feels performative based on the stories I heard earlier, but naively I hope it’s an indication of some radical change. When I get to ALOHO at around 10 pm, there are only 9 people in the basement space, including two people who seem to be overflow from Pitchers.
The space seems to be Lesbian as an afterthought, and with no real distinction in decor or vibe from upstairs, I wonder why they didn’t just open up the entire space to be a queer bar, instead of attempting to loosely separate by gender and sexuality. The only real difference is the logo, a rainbow ponytail added to the illustration.
I realize there is a drag show in one of the upstairs spaces and make my way up. What queer doesn’t like a good drag show? The crowd is packed tightly around a long narrow stage (a very skinny thrust for my theatre nerds) and the queens are quite good, when I can get a view of the stage from behind shoulders and crowded bodies.
To be honest, I have no idea how to write about drag. My ex worked for World of Wonder and I lived with them for nearly a year during peak #wfh, so you think I would have absorbed some version of a critical eye, but truly I don’t really know what makes good drag or bad. I will say my favorite number was an adorable mashup between “That’s How You Know” from Enchanted, and “I Won’t Say I’m in Love” from Hercules. Like I said with karaoke, I love some good Disney performances. The closing number also involved a bright pink vacuum and limbo, so all in all, a good time.
At one point I try to head back to the downstairs bathroom, but ALOHO has closed during the show. It’s only 11:30, and their Instagram claims to be open until 2 am on Thursdays. Pitchers is of course still open, leading me to wonder once again why the two spaces try to be separate at all.
I have a new theory that there are two kinds of Lesbian bars; the divey neighborhood bar and the party-forward dance club. And so far, the latter type seems to be the least sapphic and the most confused. I am also discovering that what makes a good queer bar is having a distinct culture, an energy unique to the space. A not-so-great, or at least a “not for me” bar feels generic, like it could be in any city with any clientele.
Especially in the drag space, gay men and straight folks seem to outnumber Lesbians. There is plenty of horny energy in the air though, I spot several couples beginning to pair off, in that flirty space between “lots of touching and eye contact” and “fully making out.” After the show ends, everyone clears out very quickly, leaving only the aforementioned non-Lesbians.
There seems to be an increasing trend of Lesbian spaces leaning more and more queer and welcoming to all, but the bars that have traditionally served cis gay men don’t seem to be changing anytime soon. Gay bars are technically inclusive sure, but they tend to be so overwhelmingly cis het gay male that it doesn’t really matter.
A League of Her Own seems to me to be the Millennial idea of gayness, whereas As You Are is Gen Z Queer. Millennials are excited to be openly and happily gay and dive deep into camp, kitsch, and rainbow as an aesthetic. Their celebration is there just because it can be. Gen Z on the other hand is the queerest generation, one in five Gen Z adults identify as LGBT according to Gallup. Zoomers demand more than mere representation, they use queerness as a means for social change, to take up a new fight. Millennials are tired of fighting and just want to drink their vodka sodas in peace.
Overly enthusiastic drag queen fans recording the entire time: 6
Washington, DC
