First timer

On the other hand the worst thing a person can do to himself is knowing something and doing nothing about it. This lack of action will eat you alive from the inside. So I had a little plan. I knew a couple of gay bars, and a gay club famous for the wild parties, even though I was not trying to go that far. I made myself presentable and headed for the gay bar. Among all those men I could find a hot, kind-hearted transgirl, give her my very best. Love is mainly what you are able to give, and I had plenty.
One of the gay bars was in the business district, an area of town I hardly knew or visited for anything. It was 8 pm in a Saturday night, so I was expecting a bubbly atmosphere and plenty of gayness. The bar had no bouncers at the door, which is a very good thing, so I opened the door myself and stepped in. It was almost empty. Weirdly shaped room with hardly any embellishing, just a counter at the bottom and a big ass screen with gay porn on, non stop. Some cosy corners here and there offered semi privacy. Sort of industrial style. Depeche Mode  livened up the evening with a song from the old days. I knew I had to act cautiously. I knew of that guy who got roofed at a gay club, woke up in the back seat of his car parked at his front door. Shit smeared all over the tapestry lipstick on his face, a cumed condom in his ass and plenty of blow in his moustache. Neighbours passing by, etc. Apparently he never fully recovered. The bar tender was an alternative looking chick without a free spot for more ink on her skin, hot as fuck, snappy and arrogant kiddo. There were also a couple of sharp dressed guys accompanied by a few young north african boys, "barely" of legal age to be there, or for anything. I thought it was nasty to bring prostitute boys into a bar just like that, making it obvious to everyone that you fuck young ass for money. Apparently showing off some moroccan pussyboys implied some higher status. I rolled with it. Most gay bars usually have a dark room at the back, like the bar is just the anteroom to the real temple of debauchery, where all the raunchy action happens. A sex dungeon open to the public, basically. I wondered if the Moroccan boys were kept in there as a special service for select clients. 
I went up to the bar to order a drink.