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A Transphobe Ruined His Own Night Because I Was Existing Next to Him
Hate is a miserable business — but in this case, not for me!
My partner and I went to DILF Leeds for the first time this week — DILF, which obviously stands for Dad I’d Like To Fuck, is a regular gay dance night that runs here in the UK. It runs all over, in Manchester and London and a bunch of other cities, as well as more locally to us in Leeds.
I will be the first to say that dance music is not my vibe as a rule, and a lot of the DJing unfortunately struck me as closer to noise than music — we’d meant to go before but had to miss the event, so we were really excited to go this week. I did have a significant moment of doubt when I realised that the event started at ten o’clock, because despite the night being aimed at older men particularly, I am in my heart much more tired and crotchety than any of them could be, but we went along.
We arrived just as the night opened, and a few guys were stripping out of their day gear into their club gear underneath, or were changing into it.
We logged all our stuff in the cloakroom, and to begin with I didn’t strip down too much — my partner stripped down to his Christmas suspenders and jock strap earlier on, and once it was a good deal busier (and thus a lot warmer), I…
