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I Can't Seem To Find The Moline Gay District

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Mom Sleeps In Past Sunrise

WOBURN, MA―Noting that she had somehow managed to sleep through both the dawn chorus of birds and her neighborhood’s early morning garbage pickup, 53-year-old local mother Laura Maloney confirmed that she did not awaken Monday until after the sun had risen.

Area Dad Needs More Time With Museum Plaque

NEW YORK—Leaning in close to the paragraph of text as his family continued on to the museum’s other exhibits, area dad and Frick Collection visitor Phillip Schermeier, 58, reportedly needed more time with the plaque beside Rembrandt’s 1626 painting Palamedes In Front Of Agamemnon Thursday.

Friend From College Wasted No Time Becoming White-Collar Professional

CHARLOTTE, NC—Noting how his fellow 23-year-old now takes business trips and apparently has a company-issued cell phone, local barista Daniel MacKenzie reported Friday that his friend Eric Sanford—with whom MacKenzie attended the University of Virginia from 2011 to 2015—has wasted no time at all becoming a full-fledged white-collar professional.

Waitress Who Took Over At Table Just Doesn’t Have Same Spark As Richard

FREEPORT, ME—Sensing things wouldn’t be the same once the woman removed their empty potato skin basket without so much as a playful acknowledgment of how much they must have enjoyed the appetizer, patrons at Downeast Grill confirmed Wednesday night that their new waitress, Allie, just didn’t have the same spark Richard had.

Man Practices Haircut Request Before Heading To Barber

MINNEAPOLIS—Having scripted a set of lines he hoped to deliver with confidence and decisiveness, local 34-year-old Jason Clyne carefully rehearsed his haircut request several times Friday before heading to his local barbershop, sources confirmed.

Ronald McDonald Statue Bears Full Brunt Of Teenagers’ Mockery

CLEVELAND—Remaining stoically silent throughout the barrage of vicious insults, unsavory accusations, and various other indignities directed at it, a statue of Ronald McDonald seated on a bench outside the fast-food chain’s Clark Avenue location is said to have borne the full force of a group of teenagers’ mockery Thursday.

Woman Leaving Meeting Worried She Came Off As Too Competent

OXNARD, CA—Silently chastising herself for the way she behaved in front of her colleagues and supervisors, Cobalt Property Insurance sales associate Leah Manning, 36, was reportedly deeply worried Tuesday that she came off as too competent during the company’s weekly sales meeting.
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I Can't Seem To Find The Moline Gay District

As a gay man, whenever I'm in a new city, the first thing I do is seek out the gay district. Whether it's New York's Greenwich Village, The Castro in San Francisco, or Chicago's Boystown, a gay district has the stores, cafés, and clubs that fit my lifestyle. But I've been here in Moline for two whole days on business and, God help me, I can't find the Moline gay district anywhere.

I just don't get it. I've driven all over town with no luck at all. Where are the gay bars? The vintage-clothing shops? The lesbian book stores? I swear, it's like Moline is trying to keep the gay part of town a big secret. You have to be a regular queer Columbo to find a single upscale erotic-art gallery in Moline, much less an entire gay district.

My first stop was downtown, which I quickly redubbed Lametown. No vegan restaurants, no scented-candle shops–not so much as a single inverted pink triangle in a window. Only fast-food chains, auto-supply stores, and a Kmart. Can't get much straighter than that.

Convinced that I missed something, I scoured the entire downtown area again, this time with my gay-dar turned up a good three notches. Once again, nada. For a second, I thought I saw a rainbow flag, but it was just a sign in the window of a paint store.

It was time for drastic measures. I marched into Ray's Feed & Farm and asked if there were any thrift shops, massage parlors, or holistic pet-food stores nearby. Those farmers looked at me like I was balancing a Buick on my dick. After a few moments of awkward silence, one guy in a John Deere cap cleared his throat and directed me to Bridgewood Antiques. I thanked them for their help and got out of the store quickly. I hope I don't ever have any need for feed or farming supplies, because I don't think I'd want to go back in there any time soon.

After going through all that trouble, Bridgewood Antiques turned out to be a major bust. All they had were old magazines and Craftsman tools. No Shaker rocking chairs, no Japanese screens, no chintz drapes. What's worse, the customers were all just a bunch of gray-haired old grandmas. Where were the immaculately dressed gay professionals trying to find that perfect, one-of-a-kind floor rug for their sunroom? Where were the flamboyant hipsters buying campy early-'60s kitchen tables? They must be somewhere in Moline, but where?

I finally realized where I needed to look: the local college campus. That's always a reliable gay hotbed. I marched right up to the entrance of the Black Hawk College student union and asked a man where I might find any "Friends Of Dorothy." All I got was a blank stare. The next 250 people I approached just offered more of the same.

I'm not giving up yet. I know there's a gay district somewhere in Moline. There has to be. I mean, it's a city of more than 40,000 people, for heaven's sake. Ten percent of that works out to 4,000 people. That's heck of a lot of gay people to keep hidden and districtless.

This morning, while leaving my hotel, I got a tip from the front-desk clerk. He said there's a drag show on the outskirts of town tonight. Hallelujah! If I can get out there, I should be able to find my kind of folks. I just have to remember the directions to the raceway where it's being held, and I'll be home free. Keep your fingers crossed.

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