Monday is trivia night at The Backdoor, and truthfully, I arrive a little out of it, having spent far too long driving today. I accidentally started driving towards Bloomington, Illinois, and then navigated back through endless cornfields for several hours. 

You enter The Backdoor through, wait for it, the back door. Around the corner and through an alley, there is a brightly painted patio, bedecked with Tumblresque wall hangings featuring unicorns, kittens, and lots of lasers. 

There are murals on every available wall, ranging from crystals and witchy patterns to Nyan cat to The Golden Girls. Mint green and millennial pink stools circle small tables, and I can see the space being packed with laughter on weekends. 

A set of stairs takes you into the main bar space, and The Backdoor has installed a short outdoor lift to make the space accessible. Take note, ahem. 

Inside the space is large, with chairs and tables organized in small clusters that could be easily moved for dancing. A decent-sized stage takes up the back wall, with a spray-painted unicorn logo and thick curtains. 

The drink menu is written out in colorful, swirling chalk, all the names are sexual innuendo riffs of classic party drinks. Mercifully, my PBR is once again only $3. The bar-top is a collaged history lesson of old newspaper clippings, photos of prominent historical queers, hanky code cheat sheets, and irreverent gay memes. 

The space is mostly black paint, side walls spray painted with zebra stripes. Unicorns dominate the space, rubber masks in corners, bronze busts above doorways, and a truly impressive collection of unicorn art on the walls. Magic eye posters, velvet paintings, magical unicorn mysticism of the late 90s featuring naked maidens, all displayed in matching glittery frames. A line of hand-painted portraits of drag queens guard the bathrooms. 

Speaking of the bathroom, the door is marked with a Technicolor mural of toilets, and inside an oversized portrait of Angela Davis watches you wash your hands. The mint green stalls are decorated with anti-cop, pro-anarchist graffiti. An infographic about avoiding monkeypox is taped below rules about not talking to cops. 

Everywhere I look, there is interesting art, radical ideas, and empowering statements. The round tables are lacquered with images of liberation, celebrations, and queer art. This is a space that has been cultivated and built over the years, this kind of dedication cannot be reached in a single paint session. 

The trivia crowd is quiet, writing answers on sheets of paper as they go. Categories include “Made for Walking” and “Being Extra.” Teams range from one person to eight, of varying identities and expressions. The trivia folks seem to run a bit older, non-Dyke compared to the rest of the crowd. 

Bloomington is a college town, and the majority of the crowd is on the younger side, greeting each other like college students do, with perhaps a tad too much enthusiasm. Fashion tonight ranges from flip flops and sweats for the older crowd, the college kids wearing their tight crop tops and snug jeans. 

The space feels comfortable and easy to simply exist in. There is a food truck on the patio called “Munch Box” (the jokes write themselves) and the fries walking under my nose are incredibly tempting. 

The bartender is a sweet college Twink with curly brown hair, bouncing walk, and dangly silver necklaces. They call me hun when they give me my drink and chat about drink recommendations with a group of cute queers. A cute sporty Dyke with a back pocket bar rag and a backwards hat clears tables and delivers food to the bartender. 

After trivia, they pump the music and kill the stage lights, so the candy pink chandeliers and disco ball provide most of the illumination. The crowd clears pretty quickly after trivia, a few groups of stragglers mingle over fruity drinks or smoke outside.

Pink triangles are another, slightly more subtle, motif. Backdoor manages to balance effervescent queer joy with social responsibility and deference to our history, a delicate line to walk. 

Like many others on the list, The Backdoor has also rebranded from a strictly Lesbian space to a more generalized queer. Everyone is welcome to express themselves however they see fit.

Two queers take to the stage and dance giddily to the club beats, to the entertainment of friends and strangers. This bar feels like the kind of place you can be yourself without judgment and embrace all of your parts without fear.

The dancers break it down to cheers from the entire bar, giggling at the attention. Clearly college kids who are just beginning to embrace their queerness, they are met with resounding support, and dance parties erupt across the space. I imagine this is the kind of space where many college kids first experience queer joy and acceptance, and The Backdoor holds that legacy proudly.

Crop tops: 10

Bloomington, IN