Don't you know that in a city of six million--in a country where homosexuality is prohibited by law--we would end up what we think was a gay bar for New Years Eve? Because of the legal issue I won't give the name of the venue, but let's just say that the theme of the "dj party" was way on the down low.
Because we were with Violet, we arrived at the restaurant early, a little after eight. As we stepped out of the car, a well-dressed gent behind a card table said, "Mister Nick?" I must have looked confused, because he added quickly, "I took your reservation." Ah, of course--how many Americans with seven year old daughters had reservations at eight o'clock? (In retrospect I realized just how unique we were: what other Americans with seven year old daughters have reservations at a gay bar at eight o'clock?) Upstairs, the techno music was deafening, but we enjoyed the drinks and appetizers that came with our cover charge. Even in a dark techno club on New Years, the food in India is fantastic.
Slowly, the men arrived in twos and fours. Jessica still maintains that it might not have been a gay bar, but here are the facts: by the time we left at 9:15 (exhausted daughter in tow) Violet and Jessica were the only females in a room of forty or fifty men. Unless a flock of forty or fifty women arrived shortly thereafter, the proportion was decidedly more Apollo than Venus. Or is it more Krishna than Radha?
