Grindr is all about making connections. More often than not, it works out beautifully.

But if you meet enough people over a long enough period of time, eventually you may run into the nightmare scenario: someone who seemed perfect on screen turns out to be not so perfect IRL.

Maybe they grew a scraggly beard—or 15 years older—since their last pic. (Next time, ask for a verified Taken on Grindr current photo, TM.) Or maybe they’re gorgeous, but their in-person energy is just… off.

Whatever the reason, you’re not feeling it — and that’s okay. It’s an uncomfortable situation, but it’s also something we all face at one time or another. So it’s in all our best interests to make respectful rejection a healthy, normal part of hook-up and dating culture.

So, how do you do it—how do you bail kindly? It depends on where this is all going down…

In public

You know that movie moment where the protagonist sees their love interest for the first time and time seems to slow down?

A bad first meetup is like the opposite of that: you spot someone you instantly know you’re not attracted to, only to watch them speed towards you like an oncoming train.

Luckily, if you made the decision to meet in public first—which I recommend—you have a pretty easy out. It may not be as fun an evening as you hoped, but all you have to do is be polite.

Grab your drink or coffee as planned. Talk. Be human. Once you’ve finished a round, don’t make a huge production of rejecting them—even if you’d previously implied there would be a part two to this meetup. Simply say, “Hey, it was great meeting you, but I think I’m going to head back home.” The implication should be clear, while letting everyone save face.

If they do press you for more— “I thought we were gonna hang”—that’s when you whip out the magic words we’re gonna be using a lot in this article:

“To be honest, I’m not feeling a connection.”

It’s not a fun thing to say to someone, exactly—but it is direct, clear, and impossible to argue with.

In private

In private, things get a little trickier.

A door swings open—either at your place or theirs — to reveal not a prince, but a frog. Do you still invite them into your castle? Do you dare venture into their swamp? (This metaphor came out meaner than intended.)

You could fall back on “I’m not feeling a connection”… but using those words immediately on sight can feel pretty brutal.

This one’s a judgment call. If you sense intentional deception or that their vibe goes beyond unappealing to, say, aggressive, that’s enough of a red flag that you shouldn’t worry about politeness. Just rip off the Band-Aid—“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m not feeling it”—and close the door, or walk away. Don’t give reasons, and definitely don’t accuse them of misleading you; anything beyond a firm personal statement just invites more interaction.

But if they seem nice and normal—and maybe you have enough IG mutuals to confirm they’re a functioning member of society—use an abbreviated version of the public playbook. Sacrifice a little of your evening and be kind. Offer them (or ask for) a non-alcoholic drink. Have a quick, friendly chat.

Then you can try a face-saving excuse—“I’m actually feeling tired, I’m gonna head to bed”—and if they don’t immediately take the hint, fall back on our magic words.

In flagrante

What if you actually were into it—to the point where you got into bed together—only for things to take a hard left turn?

To be clear, I don’t mean you were loving it until you suddenly and mysteriously lost interest. This is not a guide to being a Kum & Go—if they did their part, do yours.

I mean it’s real bad, and you’re genuinely uncomfortable.

Maybe they’re spitting on you without permission (as if anyone down for sexual contact must also enjoy roleplaying as a city sidewalk). Or maybe they’re speaking so softly and gesticulating so dramatically in bed you can’t shake the feeling you’re having sex with a mime. (Too specific?)

The number one rule here is: do not muddle through to be nice. Remember consent is an ongoing conversation, not a contract, and you’re allowed to change your mind at any time. If you don’t speak up, not only will you be miserable, but eventually your partner may catch on—and the late-stage realization that your hookup has been hating it the whole time is uniquely soul-crushing.

Shut things down quickly… while keeping in mind they’re in a uniquely vulnerable position. Turn to couples-therapist-approved “I” statements. If you can’t bring yourself to say “I’m not feeling a connection” at this point, instead say something like “I’m feeling off my game tonight” or “I’m in a weird headspace” and end with a simple: “Do you mind if we stop?”

Apologize, and if you really can’t help yourself, you can suggest trying again another time… even if you don’t mean it. The awkwardness of this moment will probably discourage a repeat visit anyway.

Ultimately, prevention is the best cure. You can usually avoid this kind of situation by being upfront about what you're looking for in the chat, digging into tags and profiles to make sure interests and kinks are aligned, and sharing verified photos. (Also, a good rule of thumb when deciding if you’re into someone online: assume they look more like their least attractive pic than their most, and then you can only be pleasantly surprised.)

But if a mismatch does happen, just remember nobody wants to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with them. So simply be kind and straightforward, and follow the golden rule: reject others how you’d want to be rejected.

Fashion’s biggest night, the Met Gala, sees untouchable celebrities parade up a blue staircase in designs touched by hundreds of hands. For better or worse, every step on the carpet is tailored to break the internet — and leave us wishing we could feel that custom, luxury fabric on our skin, too. At the top of the stairs, journalists shout for the opportunity to interview a cultural icon before they disappear into the night.

One journalist yells, “Will you protect the dolls?” at each celebrity,  with their camera ready to catch even just a one-word answer. It’s fascinating that a T-shirt, one of the most inexpensive and mass-produced clothing items in the world, is getting a shot in the spotlight next to these couture gowns — all because those words, “Protect The Dolls,” are printed onto it. Suddenly, the T-shirt I’m wearing on my couch right now feels like it could be special, too.

When Alex Consani, transgender model and cultural sensation, hears “Alex, as THE doll, do you feel protected?” she apprehensively responds, “Um, I would say so… I mean we’re here…” with a cordial, empty smile gracing her sculpted face. The truth is, in today’s America, trans women are not protected — our mere existence is threatened. All of the security guards, wealth, and fashion designers in the world can’t change the fact that trans people, as of the last 100 days, are denied access to gender-affirming care in 27 states.

Chappell Roan, the queer community’s newest cisgender princess, is also asked if she protects the dolls. She confirms enthusiastically, further highlighting the proud, vocal pro-LGBTQ+ stance our community admires her for, but her actions usually fall short of her words.

So what does it mean to “protect the dolls,” and what would be better than just wearing the words? For me, it looks like calling your lawmakers, even when it feels hopeless. It’s financially supporting trans creators, not just resharing our content. It’s making sure that when your workplace says “we support LGBTQ+ people,” trans people are actually safe and paid fairly behind the scenes. It’s exhausting having to shout for protection; I’d rather live in a world where that protection is just a given.

“Protect the dolls” is a valuable sentiment, and the fact that it’s trending in mainstream media shows how far we’ve come. But no matter how much I wish it could, wearing this T-shirt is one of the easiest ways to show support. It’s like posting a rainbow square during Pride month and calling it activism; it looks good on the surface and, sure, the thought is appreciated, but it doesn’t move the needle without action behind it. I want to see allies going beyond the T-shirt by donating, speaking up, and making real changes in their everyday lives, all of which can actually be done in five minutes or less: Try amplifying the dolls’ voices, educating yourself on the obstacles we face, or sharing a post from a trans creator. Send $5 to someone’s transition fund. Read a quick explainer on anti-trans legislation. Text your senator. Gently correct someone when they misgender someone else. These aren’t grand gestures, they’re habits. And they matter.

As I’m eating dinner in my blank white T-shirt, judging the Met Gala looks like Anna Wintour would at the top of the stairs, I think about how trans people are targeted more than any other faction of our LGBTQ+ community. While trans representation matters now more than ever, it can put us in harm’s way when it’s not done correctly. This International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, and Transphobia, I want some weight lifted off trans people’s shoulders. I want to hear more about homophobia and biphobia from my peers, too, and in a way that gives trans people a break for a moment. Same-sex marriage, for example, is threatened all across America right now.

Last month, surprise-guest Troye Sivan levitated from Charli XCX’s Coachella stage wearing a “Protect The Dolls” tee. The crowd went wild, unsurprisingly; his audience has a strong appetite for anything doll-related, as he staunchly supports the trans community using words and action. He makes supporting the dolls cool. Some trans people interpret his song “One Of Your Girls” as a trans anthem: The lyrics “I’ll be like one of your girls or your homies… I’ll keep it a secret, you get the key to my heart” can reflect the friction between trans women’s worthiness of love while being made to feel like an embarrassing secret. And the song’s music video showcases gender variance at its finest.

Seeing a gay man like Troye casually use his big moment as a political statement, without any performative fuss, felt like the proper use of the T-shirt. 

But that shirt can’t do the work alone, and neither can Troye, Chappell, Alex Consani, or any celebrity alone. “Protect The Dolls” has to mean more than a moment, a slogan, or a social caption. It has to look like voting in local elections. It has to sound like speaking up at dinner when your friend says something subtly harmful. It has to feel like real allyship when it’s inconvenient, unglamorous, or unacknowledged. If you're going to wear the shirt, mean it. Make sure your actions match the energy of the words you’re putting on your chest. And most of all, don’t just protect the dolls — build a world where we don’t need protecting in the first place.

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Let’s face it: growing up as a gay boy is hard. We live in a culture that sees us as sissies and pansies, less than real men. Most of us spent the majority of our adolescence hiding in the closet, and even the ones brave enough to come out as kids faced an onslaught of negativity. Shame is as universally part of the coming out experience as stealing your sister’s Tiger Beat magazine to jerk off to the latest teen heartthrob.

Whether you came of age in the ‘90s, the ‘00s, or the ‘10s, you no doubt felt some version of the same shame that’s permeated across generations of gays. But there’s something special about us gay boys: resilience. Despite being conditioned to hate everything about ourselves, that hardship actually unites us all. This journey through shame, in all its generational flavors, seems to be the crucible that creates the unexpected strength and brotherhood we eventually find.

June Is Pride Month… So, When Do We Talk About Shame?

As a tail-end Millennial growing up in the aughts, I had a tough time telling shame to shut up. While I did eventually come out, it wasn’t a one-and-done deal. It was a long process that took the better part of a decade. I first told friends when I was 17, but I was still deeply uncomfortable with it, even a little embarrassed. When I went to college, I was “out,” but very adamantly not “one of those” gays who dressed well and listened to Beyoncé. I exclusively hung out with straight people, and I prided myself on that. Whether or not anyone actually perceived me this way, I had convinced myself I was “straight-acting” and “normal.” Escaping the shame meant trying to escape the gayness itself, a classic rookie mistake.

In my mid-20s, I began to fully embrace being gay, making friends and going to gay bars and parties. Now, I can’t imagine wishing my life were any different. In many ways, my life is way better than that of my straight peers I so desperately wanted to be. They all complain about how hard it is to get laid, while I can hop on Grindr and find someone to fuck as easily as I can find a restaurant to order dinner. They complain about how hard it is to make friends as an adult. For me, it couldn’t be easier. I’ve gone to cities all over the world and instantly found community.

Gen X Marks the G Spot

Matthew and Lance are Gen X husbands I met visiting San Francisco last summer, embodying the same journey but with a whole separate set of scars. They discovered their sexuality as teenagers in the early ‘90s, when the AIDS epidemic was still in full swing — a layer of shame I never had to deal with. By the time I became sexually active, PrEP had made HIV preventable, and treatments for HIV and AIDS had advanced to the point where positive patients could still live long and prosper. When I was a kid, gays were viewed as sassy, effeminate punching bags. When they were kids, gays were viewed as dirty, diseased pariahs. That’s enough to keep anybody in the closet.

Due to the stigma, both were very hesitant to embrace their sexuality. Both of them began their coming out process in college, and it extended into their mid-20s, not unlike mine. Even though they didn’t have PrEP, some social progress made it easier for them to come to terms with themselves. Their journey underscores how even the deepest layers of era-specific shame can eventually be overcome.

“There was a lot going on culturally at that time, with shows like Will and Grace and Ellen DeGeneres,” Lance told me. “There was finally more representation in the media around the late ‘90s.”

Now, as they approach their 50s (although they identify as “age-fluid”), those days of shameful self-loathing are nothing but distant memories. “I’ve shed three or four different layers of skin since then,” Matthew said. “If someone gave me the choice to be straight and never have known my gay life, I’d say, ‘Fuck that! No thank you.’” With no socially-imposed “acceptable” structures in place, queers have the freedom to choose their own adventures in every aspect of their lives as they age. They can go down the domestic route and have kids, or they can keep having fun well into adulthood and host the afters on Folsom weekend -- which is how I met Matthew and Lance.

Born Out of the Closet? Maybe Not…

I was always under the impression that Generation Z, despite being only a few years younger than me, had a totally different coming out experience than I did. They came of age in an era with legal gay marriage and a culture that was more accepting than ever before. But that didn’t mean coming out was any easier.

24-year-old Nathan grew up in super-liberal Santa Cruz in a queer-affirming household, with a mother he described as “overly supportive.” He even told me a story about his parents buying him a ballerina outfit when he expressed interest in the dainty dancers as a kid. But when he became aware of his sexuality, he still had an all-too-familiar reaction. “My school was accepting, my family was accepting, my community was accepting, but there were several years when I was very ashamed, and I can’t necessarily pinpoint why,” he explained, suggesting perhaps it may not just be cultural, but biological.

Nathan’s confusion shows that shame doesn’t need a playground bully to get comfortable. You can be wrapped in the safest, rainbow‑dripped bubble and still breathe the air that keeps whispering straight is the default setting. Every movie poster, every off‑hand joke on TV, every wedding ad on Instagram nudges you toward that “normal.” So before you even have the language for it, a weird static builds up inside: I’m off. I’m wrong. Something’s crooked here, and it might be me.

That’s a shame born not from direct hate, but from simply being different in a world obsessed with matching sets. And it seeps in early, long before you can tack a label on your own feelings.

While he isn’t a club or circuit party person, Nathan’s self-discomfort evaporated after partaking in a favorite homosexual pastime: having sex with men. “Once I started regularly hooking up with guys, the shame dissipated,” he explained. “It was like, ‘Oh, this is what I’m supposed to be doing.’” It turned out that the thing society kept telling him was wrong couldn’t have possibly felt more right.

26-year-old Collin, of less accepting rural New Jersey, came out to their family at 13 and had their first boyfriend at 15. But that doesn’t mean his classmates were cheering. “I was openly queer, but I wasn’t being me,” they explained. “I would shrink myself because that was the easiest way to get through the day.” Shrinking meant policing their mannerisms, avoiding topics that felt 'too gay,' essentially trying to take up less space to avoid friction.

Now, Collin — a self-professed “old soul” — wholly embraces their community, preferring to meet people at gay bars and kink parties despite being part of the Grindr generation. Thanks to their community, Collin no longer feels the need to shrink. “I feel the best about myself that I ever have,” they said.

Being queer screws with your wiring no matter your zip code or birth year. The world hands you a template labeled “Normal,” and every time you try to fold yourself into it, something tears. That rip, small at first, keeps snagging on locker-room jokes, wedding invites, census forms. The snag is shame. You pick at it, pretend it isn’t there, but it keeps catching.

On the bright side, being gay is like being part of a fraternity with chapters and communities all over the world. No matter how old you are or where you grew up, there are millions of people who share your experience and have turned that darkness into light. We’ve all faced social pressure and our own doubts, but we end up finding people who get us and have our backs. After years of hazing, we have this uplifting, enduring brotherhood that our child selves could’ve only dreamed of.

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It’s a gay rite of passage. Growing up closeted and surrounded by female friends, someone — usually your mom — is eventually bound to ask: why don’t you date one of them?

There’s an easy answer, even if you don’t want to share it yet.

But later in life, once you’ve found your community and perhaps formed a tight-knit group of gay male friends, you might be asked the same question… and the answer might not be as obvious.

Because… why don’t you date one of them? One of those total catches you spend all your time with — who share your every interest and whose overlapping sexual histories suggest you’re all in the same league? You know, the ones you’re constantly commiserating with about your hopeless love lives?

Let’s break down the real reasons you’re not dating any of your highly eligible single friends — and whether or not you should reconsider.

Excuses, excuses

At first, the question might seem insulting, even ignorant — akin to your straight co-worker suggesting you’re perfect for the only other gay person they know. You’re not dating your friends because they’re your friends! Not all gay men are romantically compatible!

But that knee-jerk reaction might be a defense mechanism.

So I surveyed some friends, and once they were finished scoffing, I asked them to take a moment and really consider what stops them from dating our moots. Here’s what they said:

“We already dated and it didn’t work out.”

A shocking number of gay besties met on dating apps in the first place. When sparks didn’t fly, they became friends instead, and permanently closed the door to romance.

My take? All that means is things fizzled between two strangers, as they almost always do. And then those two strangers defied the odds and formed a lifelong bond anyway. In my mind, it’s all the more reason to reconsider dating — now that you know how compatible you truly are.

“I’m not attracted to / sexually compatible with them.”

If the thought of touching your friend physically repulses you, fine, that’s a strong reason to steer clear. But if they simply don’t set your loins on fire, good news — that just means you have a head start on most long-term couples.

Initial attraction is always fleeting, whereas sexual chemistry can be built — especially with someone you already trust. Even if you both prefer the same side of the bed, so to speak, a little experimentation can go a long way. And prioritizing sexual compatibility above all is a great way to end up with a virile, absolutely shredded maniac.

“I don’t want to risk our friendship.”

This is valid — in some cases. If we’re talking childhood besties who’ve seen each other through it all, it makes sense to tread carefully. I get not wanting to blow up a load-bearing relationship in your life by, er, bearing each other’s loads.

But if you’re declaring every new friend you meet instantly off-limits, that just means you’re prioritizing  finding new friendships over finding your perfect match. Or that what you’re really afraid of risking is the temporary sting of rejection.

Straight talk

Let’s say I’m right, and dating your gay best friend is a good idea. Why doesn’t it happen more often?

For this, let’s turn to the sacred texts of our heterosexual counterparts. From When Harry Met Sally to Friends with Benefits to The Lizzie McGuire Movie, romantic comedies have forever asked the question “can men and women be platonic friends?” and concluded: absolutely not.

But the common thread in all of them? A ticking clock: a race to the airport, a rushed wedding, the imminent conclusion of an extremely loosely supervised middle school field trip.

The same is true in real life: at least anecdotally speaking, it’s far more common for single straight friends to couple up as they approach 30, and race their biological clocks down the aisle. Think of the cliché: “If we’re still alone by X age, we’ll get married” — as in the other seminal classic, My Best Friend’s Wedding. (Some readers will be horrified to learn the “X age” in that film is 28.)

If two gay men made that pact, what would their deadline even be? With no biological imperative but increasing exhaustion, it’s easy to imagine that fateful day being kicked down the road for decades to come.

In conclusion

So why aren’t more gay best friends dating each other?

In some ways, I suspect they are. See, for many gay men, the most intimate relationships in their lives are with their best friends. They plan vacations, share secrets, squabble over meaningless details together. They even ritually go out on date nights which end in sex — just not with each other.

In other words, they become life partners… all while keeping their romantic options open, because they can. And there’s nothing wrong with that!

But if you’re someone who wants a life partner sooner than later, try this thought experiment: regardless of your current age, imagine you have one year left to pick a partner or end up forever alone. Would you keep rolling the dice on strangers — or might you give a second look to someone you already love and trust?

Don’t get me wrong: gay friendships are something to be treasured. Those connections run deep… which is exactly why they shouldn’t be taken for granted. Who knows? Maybe your go-to plus-one has been the one all along.

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San Juan, the capital of Puerto Rico and a tropical queer haven, isn’t about to let you have a dull moment. Whether you’re a sunburned first-timer thirsty for happy hour, a seasoned San Juan party pro, or just a beach bum who came for the views, this is your no-nonsense guide to the best of gay San Juan.

To cut through the tourist fluff, Grindr went straight to the source — asking real Boricua Grindr users where they eat, drink, dance, and misbehave. Below is our curated travel guide:

Favorite Queer-Friendly Restaurant or Food Spot

These are the places you start your night with mofongo and end it three rum punches deep. Come hungry, leave happy (and maybe with a new friend).

Cocina Abierta – Condado/Santurce (58 Calle Caribe)

Cocina Abierta’s open-kitchen concept serves up creative Puerto Rican-fusion dishes in a hip atmosphere where queer foodies and their crews feel right at home. Think fresh red snapper ceviche followed by truffle mac & cheese alcapurrias. Cocina Abierta is a fancy-ish dinner that somehow still feels like a house party.

📍On Calle Caribe in Condado, at the edge of Santurce’s art district. You’ll spot the chic outdoor patio and hungry homos by the bar.

🔥 Tip: Start with the ceviche and a tamarind mojito.

Lote 23 – Santurce (Ave. Ponce de León & Ave. Juan P. Duarte)

An open-air food park meets queer-friendly block party. Lote 23 is a colorful collection of food trucks and kiosks where you can sample everything from gourmet burgers to Asian-Caribbean bao buns. By day, you’ll find picnic tables, rainbow umbrellas, and local LGBTQ+ folks lunching on poke and empanadas. By night, the string lights come on, a DJ might spin funk or reggaetón, and it becomes the pregame hangout.

📍Heart of Santurce, at Parada 23. Look for the graffiti murals and a crowd of artsy locals chowing down under the stars.

🔥 Tip: Come with a crew and sample a bit of everything. Share BBQ pork buns and ceviche cups. Grab a Medalla beer from the bar and snag a picnic table.

Santaella – Santurce (219 Calle Canals, La Placita)

This chef-driven hotspot is equal parts upscale dining and sultry Latin ambiance. Tucked beside La Placita de Santurce, Santaella draws a chic local crowd. The interior is lush (literally, there’s a jungle-like indoor garden) and the menu reimagines Puerto Rican classics (cc: outrageously good fried cheese queso frito and tamarind-glazed ribs). It’s the perfect place to impress a date without looking like you’re trying too hard.

📍Right by La Placita’s nightlife hub in Santurce.

🔥 Tip: Reserve ahead for Friday night. Start with a watermelon mojito at the bar while you wait for your table. When that flan de queso dessert hits the table, you’ll have already been in heaven from your multiple courses.

Best LGBTQ+ Bar or Nightlife Spot

There’s “out all night,” and then there’s San Juan. These nightlife spots range from high-energy clubs to cheeky drag dens. Here are our users’ favorite non-negotiables for after-dark fun.

Toxic Nightclub – Santurce (613 Calle Condado)

Three floors. Neon lights. Reggaetón remixes for days. Toxic is the beating heart of San Juan’s gay club scene. It’s a multi-level queer playground where you can dance until 5am (and trust, people do). By 2am, it’s wall-to-wall bodies dancing to pop divas and dembow.

📍Santurce’s gay strip on Calle Condado – just follow the thump of bass and the trail of glitter. Line out front? You’re in the right place.

🔥 Tip: Arrive before 11pm for cheaper cover and a spot near the stage. The dress code is basically “less is more.” We’ll let you figure out what that means. Order a vodka limber (a boozy frozen treat) to cool off between dance floor make outs.

Kweens Klub – Santurce (1211 Ave. Fernández Juncos)

Dress to impress at this queer megaclub that’s relatively new on the scene but already legendary. Kweens Klub is where San Juan’s beautiful creatures gather for drag extravaganzas, theme parties, and an always-packed dance floor.

📍In the heart of Santurce’s club district, a short stumble from Toxic. Look for the neon crown logo and the line of folks in sequins and heels.

🔥 Tip: Check their Instagram for theme nights. Go all out with your outfit… sparkles, harness, six-inch heels, whatever. Find your way to the upstairs lounge if you need a breather; it’s perfect for chatting up that hottie you bumped into on the dance floor. Bring cash and make sure to tip the dancers—support the artists, babe!

Tía María’s Liquor Store – Santurce (326 Ave. De Diego)

Don’t let the name fool you. This ain’t your abuela’s liquor store. Tía María’s is an iconic dive bar and one of the oldest gay watering holes on the island. Unpolished, loud, and absolutely lovable, this is where you go to meet real locals. Cheap strong drinks? Sí. A mixed crowd of older gay guys, lesbians, drag queens, college kids, and maybe a stray tourist who got lost but is living for it? También.

📍Santurce, near Hospital Pavia. You might think you’re in the wrong spot, then you see a rainbow flag and a crowd smoking out front – that’s it.

🔥 Tip: Order a local Medalla beer (it’s like $2) or a rum and Coke (they pour heavy).

Must-Visit Cultural or Artistic Spot

Because even the wildest party animals need a break to feed their soul (and AC to recover from the heat). Take a breather and get cultured with these must-see spots:

Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico (MAPR) – Santurce (299 Ave. De Diego)

Yes, you’re in the Caribbean, and yes, you must do some art. MAPR is Puerto Rico’s premier art museum, complete with a gorgeous sculpture garden and koi pond – a perfect calm retreat when you’re sweating out last night’s cocktails. It’s quiet, it’s air-conditioned (hallelujah), and it’s surprisingly romantic walking through those galleries with your date or your new Grindr fling from last night. High culture, baby!

📍Santurce Arts District, a short ride from Condado.

🔥 Tip: Go in the afternoon when the sun is brutal outside to get that AC.

Museo de Arte Contemporáneo (MAC) – Santurce (Malecón St. at Pda. 18)

For a dash of edgy and experimental, MAC is the queer-friendly contemporary art hub you didn’t know you needed. Housed in a restored 1918 school building, this museum showcases modern art from Puerto Rico and Latin America. With provocative installations, video art, and exhibits, the vibe here is artsy and inclusive.

📍Santurce, by the stoplight at Parada 18. The building is an old Spanish-style beauty – you’ll know it when you see it.

🔥 Tip: Check their calendar for live events – they host film screenings, indie theater, even vogueing workshops sometimes.

Santurce Street Art (Calle Cerra and around)

Santurce’s murals are legendary – sprawling, colorful works by local and international artists that cover entire buildings. Wander down Calle Cerra and its side streets to find drag queens painted ten feet tall, abstract rainbow designs, and maybe even a mural advocating LGBTQ+ rights.

📍Start near Calle Cerra & Calle Juan P. Besosa in Santurce.

🔥 Tip: Go before sunset for the best lighting (and safety) to explore the murals.

Favorite Queer-Friendly Gym or Workout Spot

Get sweaty now, so you don’t have to turn the lights off later. San Juan locals are proud of their beach bods, so jump in at these queer-approved workout spots:

Ocean Park Beach Workout – Ocean Park

Your morning-after salvation is right here on the sand. You’ll see queer folks walking their dogs, doing yoga, or recovering from last night’s party with a quick swim. It’s chill, it’s free, and the scenery (waves and muscles) is first class.

📍Ocean Park Beach, by Calle Ocean Park and Calle Taft. Essentially the stretch of sand between Condado and Piñones.

🔥 Tip: Go around 7–8am for the coolest temps and prime hottie-spotting. Join a volleyball game if you’re feeling social – it’s a great way to meet cute locals (just ask “¿Puedo jugar?” with a smile).

“Muscle Factory” Gym – Condado (Ashford & Calle Vendig)

This is the cruisy gym of Condado legend. Officially a normal gym (actually a popular franchise gym these days), unofficially it’s where the pretty boys and gym rats of San Juan pump iron. Located right by the gay beach, this fitness center (dubbed “Muscle Factory” by locals) has all the equipment you need.

📍On Ashford Avenue at the corner of Calle Vendig, literally steps from the gay section of Condado Beach.

🔥 Tip: Afternoon (4-6pm) is peak “eye candy o’clock” here.

Parque Central de San Juan – Santurce/Miramar

Think of Parque Central as San Juan’s answer to Central Park—a sprawling urban park where you can run, bike, or even join a pickup basketball game with locals. This is the spot to burn off those extra cocktail calories in a legit athletic setting.

📍Between Santurce and Miramar, stretching along Ave. Fernández Juncos.

🔥 Tip: Sunset jog! The sky turns cotton-candy pink and the heat eases up. After your run, do a cool-down lap around the little lake and smile at the cute guy walking his labrador.

Hidden Gem or Lesser-Known Spot You Need to Check Out

Here’s where the real stories begin. Off-map, under-the-radar, and full of that special Puerto Rican magic.

El Local en Santurce – Santurce (1425 Ave. Fernández Juncos)

If dive bar, art space, and queer house party had a threesome, their love child would be El Local. This funky alternative bar is the heartbeat of Santurce’s underground LGBTQ+ scene. It’s unpretentious, a little gritty, and a lot welcoming.

📍On Ave. Fernández Juncos in Santurce, kind of between the clubs and the art district.

🔥 Tip: Martes de Karaoke (Tuesday karaoke) is a must if you’re in town – arrive early to snag a spot on the list and do a tequila shot for courage.

La Esquina de Polo – Santurce (1395 Calle San Rafael)

Tucked on an unassuming street in Santurce’s residential area lies La Esquina de Polo – a true dive bar legend and a cornerstone of San Juan’s local gayborhood. It’s easy to miss (just a little corner bar with neon beer signs) but inside it’s pure boricua queer flavor. Expect cheap beers, loud laughter, and a jukebox that flips from salsa to Madonna in a heartbeat.

📍In the “Santurce gay trifecta” near El Cojo and A Pedir de Boca lounge. Basically, it’s on a corner by Hospital Pavía Santurce. Look for a crowd of people chilling on the sidewalk.

🔥 Tip: This spot gets lively around midnight. Pop in after hitting the bigger bars; it’ll feel like an afterparty where you actually get to talk

Best Place for a Cruisy or Flirty Moment

You didn’t come to Puerto Rico to behave, did you? Whether it’s a casual eye-lock over coffee or some under-the-towel action in the steam room, these spots turn up the heat when you’re looking for a little extra fun:

Condado Beach “Cruising” Area – Condado (Calle Vendig & Ashford)

By day, it’s the popular gay beach where Speedos and sun-kissed skin rule. By late afternoon, the energy shifts from tanning to tantalizing. The small patch of Condado Beach at the end of Calle Vendig (right by that rainbow crosswalk) is locally known as a spot to see and be seen.

📍Atlantic Beach section of Condado, by the Atlantic Beach Hotel (now Tryst) and Calle Vendig.

🔥 Tip: Position your towel strategically near the crowd but not smack in the middle – accessible, yet with room to invite someone to join. Bring a portable speaker and play some Bad Bunny or Kylie. Instant conversation starter.

Xteamworks Gay Sauna – Santurce (1752 Ave. Fernández Juncos)

For the very open-minded traveler craving a more… hands-on experience, Xteamworks is San Juan’s sole gay bathhouse, and it’s ready to play. This multi-level men’s playground has all the essentials: lockers, private cabins, a steam room, dry sauna, dark maze, even slings (Google it, or better yet, experience it). Not for the shy, but if you want that memorable “only-in-Puerto-Rico” story (that you maybe only tell your closest friends), Xteamworks has you (un)covered.

📍Santurce, near the Hotel San Jorge. Follow Avenida Fernández Juncos past some auto shops until you find the discreet entrance marked by a small sign and perhaps a rainbow flag sticker. It’s a bit hidden – intentionally – so don’t be afraid to ring the bell and enter the rabbit hole.

🔥 Tip: Bring ID (they check, and you must be 18+). The busiest time is late night Friday and Saturday, post-club (2am and on). If you go then, expect a crowd and minimal conversation beyond “hola.”

La Sombrilla Rosa – Old San Juan (154 Calle San Sebastián)

Sometimes the sexiest moments are the simplest: a flirtatious glance across a bar, a clink of glasses, a knowing grin. La Sombrilla Rosa (“The Pink Umbrella”) is a quirky little gay lounge in Old San Juan that’s perfect for those breezy, flirty encounters.

📍In the heart of Old San Juan, along the famous Calle San Sebastián (the party street). It’s a small spot – look for pink decor and people literally spilling onto the sidewalk with their drinks.

🔥 Tip: Happy hour (usually early evening) is ideal for meeting folks before the OSJ nightlife frenzy kicks in. Order a passion fruit mojito and offer a cheers.

Final Thoughts

Puerto Rico is a slice of Caribbean queer paradise, a city where you can dance until dawn, sleep it off on the beach, soak in some culture, and do it all over again the next night. The locals are warm, the scenery is stunning, and the community knows how to have a good time. Pack your sunscreen, your sexiest swimsuit, and your open mind. Tip well. Smile often. And remember: lo que pasa en Puerto Rico… ends up as a story you’ll be telling for the rest of your life.

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Masturbation May is here—an entire month dedicated to petting the one-eyed snake. Now, some queer men celebrate masturbation year-round (keep up the good work, boys!). But others still have some hangups on masturbation. Sure, in 2025, most of us know that masturbation is normal, healthy, and won’t make you go blind. Still, many queer men have that lingering thought that “masturbation doesn’t count as sex,” and we feel this nebulous pressure that we should be doing more (i.e., anal). Or, we think masturbation is a last resort—something you settle for when you’re alone.

“Heteronormative definitions of sex, moral and religious teachings, cultural messaging, and queer erasure,” have all contributed to the stigma associated with solo and mutual masturbation, explained Dr. Lee Phillips, Ed.D., a psychotherapist and certified sex and couples therapist. “Acts like masturbation, oral sex, or mutual masturbation were devalued because they did not lead to procreation, reinforcing the idea that these acts were 'lesser,’” he said.

Then, of course, gays weren’t part of the broader cultural conversation around sex. Sure, we’ve made progress since I was in high school [redacted] years ago (where there was literally zero mention of anything “gay” in my sex ed class), but still, sex between two men isn’t a topic in mainstream conversation. Phillips sums it up when he says, “For many queer men, mutual masturbation has always been full expressions of sexuality, but dominant culture failed to validate that reality.”

But—and I cannot emphasize this enough—masturbation isn’t merely “better than nothing.” Many gay and bi men (and nonbinary cuties) genuinely prefer to mutually masturbate with a partner rather than have anal or oral sex. These men go under many names, “sides,” “bate bros,” and I’d even include “gooners” in this list—but they all have one thing in common: They’re prioritizing their pleasure and comfort over what they think they “should” be doing.

“It is insanely sexual and pleasurable to bate and edge either with other guys in person or on some sort of app/video,” Kyle, 38, said, when I asked him why he preferred mutual masturbation to oral or anal sex. “Listening to other guys moan or talk about stroking their cock is sometimes all I need to get rock hard.” Kyle added that when penetration or oral is involved, he overthinks things and goes soft. Being “Bate Bros” is just far less pressure.

Tyler, 31, went from being a bottom to a complete side. “Being a side is a freeing experience,” they said. For so long, they bottomed just to provide pleasures for others. “I wasn’t focusing on my own pleasure,” they said. When they’re mutually masturbating, they can. “To me, it’s enjoying the proximity, the bated breath, whispering to each other, sloppy make-out sessions, and pleasure without expectation. It’s an experience that I find isn’t about one person’s pleasure over the other,” Tyler says.

Cole, 36, echoed Tyler’s sentiment, noting that “the intimacy can be intense in a unique way because there is less of a power dynamic.” No Dom tops. No subby bottoms. Just two dudes, stroking while making aggressive eye contact. “It’s more egalitarian,” Cole said. “But I also enjoy the variety of sensations that can be made with penises and the hand or other parts of the body’s exterior.”

On top of the more psychological reasons to prefer mutually masturbating, there’s also the physical components. “Some men just don’t like giving oral because of the taste, or they don’t like [the feeling] of gagging,” said sex and relationship therapist Dr. Joe Kort, Ph.D., author of Side Guys: It’s Still Sex Even if You Don’t Have Intercourse. And I think anyone who’s ever bottomed knows it can be a pain in the ass (literally and metaphorically). Eating clean, douching, the pain that often accompanies anal—the gay community has normalized this, but when you take a moment to think about it: There’s a lot of effort that goes into bottoming!

Personally, I love bottoming, but I’m also lazy and don’t want to go through the rigmarole of preparing, so I often find myself swapping head or mutually masturbating because it can feel just as good without all the accompanying nonsense.

And thanks to Grindr, it’s never been easier to connect with other dudes who just want to jerk off together. For one, “side” is a position you can specify in your profile, and two, as Sterling, 32, said, “I love me some Grindr tags, baby! My most used tags are: bater, dirty, and gooner [insert tongue emoji here].”

So, this Masturbation May, feel free to jerk it yourself, or, if the mood strikes, find a bate bro and celebrate the season together!

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At some point, somewhere between the post-lockdown grooming glow-up and the slow, meme-heavy comeback of Top Gun, I looked around a gay bar and realized every person had the same thing on their face. I mean every face had a mustache.

By 2025, the mustache has become a kind of visual shorthand, a recognizable cue for a specific flavor of queerness that feels both referential and intentional. It signals style without shouting. It gestures toward masculinity and camp at the same time. It’s analog in a time when everything else feels airbrushed and filtered within an inch of its life.

And it’s everywhere.

But still—why the hell does everyone have a mustache?

Why Everyone Has a Mustache Right Now

Let’s start with the obvious: the mustache is a choice. No one wakes up with one by accident. You grow it, shape it, maintain it. You know it’ll be seen—not necessarily liked, but registered. In that sense, it’s less about beauty and more about readability. And sure, a beard or stubble requires maintenance too. But the mustache signals this kind of cunty punctuation mark—precise and a little smug.

It’s not about being sexy. It’s about being specific. In a moment when identity feels increasingly slippery—flattened by algorithms, smoothed out by AI—the mustache offers friction. It disrupts the feed just enough to suggest individuality.

Post-Pandemic Grooming and the Return of the Face

This didn’t appear out of nowhere. During lockdown, grooming became something #existential. We stopped performing for each other, and the rules fell apart. Some people let it all grow out. Others shaved everything off. For a while, we were just faces on screens, or behind masks.

But when the world reopened, we faced a new question: Who do I want to look like now?

The mustache became one answer. Less commitment than a beard, more presence than being clean-shaven. It offered just enough styling to feel deliberate, without tipping into costume. It was a low-stakes way to reclaim a face that had been blurred and backgrounded for years.

And then it spread. Not just virally, but optically. You saw three people you respected pull it off, and suddenly it wasn’t just viable—it was inevitable. And if those three people were also hot? Game over.

Mustache Mojo: Past Meets Present

Long before TikTok transition videos and post-pandemic glow-ups, queer culture was already busy turning the upper-lip into a statement piece: Tom of Finland’s hyper-macho illustrations in the ’50s and ’60s gave leather-bar clones a blueprint ; the late-’70s Castro clones mass-produced that look in tight Levi’s and unapologetic swagger; Freddie Mercury snuck the same thick Chevron onto arena stages in 1980, trolling mainstream fans while winking at the gays—“A lot of people are hating it — I don’t give a fuck, actually… it’s my mustache and I’m gonna keep it!” —and John Waters proved a penciled-on line of fuzz could be just as subversive as a full broom . Each era used the mustache to flip masculinity, eroticize authority, or camp it up—so today’s wave isn’t a revival so much as the latest remix of a long-running queer visual language, still flirting, still defiant, still loud even when it’s just sitting there

It Doesn’t Say Anything Specific—And That’s the Point

The mustache doesn’t articulate a single, stable meaning—and maybe that’s the point. It’s not like  nail polish or a clack fan. It’s quieter, more passive. It just sits there—literally on your face, yes, but also semiotically—allowing interpretation to fill the space it leaves open.

Other signals tend to declare something—“I’m masc,” “I’m femme,” “I listen to Ethel Cain.” But the mustache interrupts that clarity, especially in its link to the broader workwear trend: Carhartt jackets, heavy boots, a styled-down ruggedness that feels unusually present in the current queer visual field. What’s striking is how the mustache, as a fragment of that code, appears just as easily on femme-presenting people as on traditionally masc ones.

That movement between poles feels important. The mustache is neutral. It’s flexible. It complicates the read. It makes the viewer hesitate, recalibrate. And that ambiguity—structured, intentional, culturally legible—is exactly what gives it force.

Why It Works on Social Media

Part of why the mustache has stuck is also because of how it performs online. Visually, it adds contrast—structure, shape, a focal point. It gives the face angles. In a feed full of smoothed-over sameness, it cuts. It’s low-tech, high-impact.

You see the arc all the time on TikTok: full beard → clean shave → mustache reveal—usually timed to some remix of Sun Bleached Flies or a track called something like “angel.exe (spit in my mouth edit).” The comments follow a cringe but consistent pattern. Not about the facial hair. About what it represents: “this is main character behavior,” “u just unlocked ur villain arc,” “he looks like he journals in italics.” The subtext is fluency. Control. You know what you’re doing with your face.

Who Gets to Wear It, and What It Gets to Mean

Not all performances get the same applause. For some of us, the mustache is a trend, a curated throwback, a low-stakes signal. I say that as someone whose face fits enough of the defaults—white, cis—that I get to treat it like an accessory. A filter I grow. A little experiment.

But that’s not what it is for everyone. The same mustache, on someone else, doesn’t always read as style. On trans men, femmes, queer folks of color, it doesn’t always accessorize—it sometimes exposes. It gets filtered through bias the wearer didn’t choose. What reads as deliberate on me might register as unruly or “too much” on someone else. Some get to play with masculinity. Others are already punished by it.

So, I can grow it, post it, shave it off when I’m done. But not everyone gets to opt in and out so easily. Not everyone gets to be interpreted how they want on purpose.

Yes, All This for a Mustache

And that’s the complication, isn’t it? It’s never just about the mustache. It’s about how something so small can carry intent, ambiguity, and aesthetic weight. It shapes a face, cuts through a feed, gestures toward masculinity without locking you into it.

But not everyone wears that ambiguity on equal terms. Some try it on; others get read through it before they speak. Still, its ubiquity says something about queerness, legibility, and how even the smallest choices get interpreted.

So yes. All this for a mustache. Because the mustache is doing more than you think.

Class is back in session, and it’s time for some new material—and as always, hot daddies to help you brush up on your queer history. Yes, that’s right. Daddy Lessons Season 2 is here. We're back with more quick, fun, and fascinating dives into the people, places, and pivotal moments that shaped our LGBTQ+ world. Because knowing where we came from isn't just important—it's seriously hot.

Missed the first semester? No worries. You can still catch up on all the essential tea from Season 1 right here... go ahead, binge-watch. We’ll wait.

All caught up? Good. This season, we’re digging even deeper and getting into some fresh, sometimes forgotten corners of our shared past. We've got new faces, new stories, and plenty of reasons to be proud.

We're rolling out the new lessons over the next few months, often tied to key dates and moments in queer history. Mark your calendars for…‍

JOCKSTRAPS

Ever wonder how this essential piece of gear went from supporting Boston bicycle jockeys on cobblestone streets to, well, supporting other assets in dimly lit rooms? We trace the practical, and later provocative, history.

BODYBUILDING

Long before fitness influencers, bodybuilding had a distinctly queer undercurrent, especially with those physique magazines circulating on the down-low. We explore that history, including the rough ride faced by pioneers like Bob Paris who dared to come out.

LIMP WRISTS

That infamous wrist gesture has signified different things across time – a mistake in Roman speeches, a mark of aristocratic ease, and later, a coded insult or identifier. We trace its path and land on the real point: your posture doesn't dictate your preference

ALAN TURING

He was a certified genius who cracked the Enigma code, playing a crucial role in ending World War II and paving the way for modern computing. He was also gay, and the country he helped save thanked him with chemical castration. It's a story everyone should know.

THE KINSEY REPORT

When Alfred Kinsey published his research on sexual behavior in the 50s, it basically broke American society's brain. On his birthday, we revisit the reports that revealed startling numbers about same-sex experiences and gave us the still-useful Kinsey Scale.

LGSM

Back in the mid-80s UK miners' strike, a surprising group showed up to offer support: Lesbians and Gays Support the Miners. It was a landmark moment of solidarity across different communities facing down Thatcherism, later inspiring the film Pride.

BAND OF THEBES

Ever heard of an army composed entirely of male couples? Ancient Thebes had one – the Sacred Band. Their commander believed 150 pairs of lovers would fight more fiercely side-by-side, and their victory over Sparta proved him right.

New lessons will hit YouTube and our socials for the next several weeks. Check them out. Because knowing your history is hot as hell.

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Amsterdam, the capital of the Netherlands and a longtime queer utopia, isn’t about to let you have a dull moment. Whether you’re a bike-riding local with opinions, a party-seeking traveler fresh off the train at Centraal, or someone who just wants a strong espresso and a cutie to show you around, here’s your guide to the best of gay Amsterdam.

Watch the Episode

To cut through the tourist fluff, Grindr went straight to the source — asking real Amsterdam Grindr users where they eat, drink, flirt, and sweat it out. Below is our curated queer travel guide to Amsterdam:

Favorite Queer-Friendly Restaurant or Food Spot

These are the places you start your day with pancakes or end your night three beers deep. Come hungry, leave happy (and maybe with a new friend).

Lunchroom Downtown – Reguliersdwarsstraat 31

Opened in the 1970s as one of Amsterdam’s first openly gay cafés, Downtown is part espresso bar, part queer history lesson, and 100% gezellig (Dutch for cozy). By day, they serve coffee and pancakes; by night, you might spot someone eyeing yesterday’s trade over a late latte. Retro diner vibes meet rainbow pride here, and everyone’s invited.

📍Right in the heart of the gay district on Reguliersdwarsstraat (near Rembrandtplein)

🔥Tip: Order a tosti (grilled cheese), a slice of apple pie, and sit by the window. It’s prime seating to casually side-eye cute passersby on their shopping strolls. Who says you can’t cruise over coffee?

Bakers & Roasters – De Pijp (Eerste Jacob van Campenstraat 54)

Brunch is practically a religion in Amsterdam, and this Kiwi-Brazilian café serves the holy trinity: strong coffee, epic brunch plates, and a crowd that’s almost as tasty as the food. Expect a line of hungover queens, gym bunnies, and avocado-toast aficionados. The vibe is lively and international – think brunch menu staples with a tropical twist.

📍In De Pijp neighborhood, just off the Albert Cuyp Market (you’ll spot the queue)

🔥Tip: Get the “Boerenjongens” banana bread French toast or the huevos rancheros – you’ll need the fuel.

Brug34 – Utrechtsestraat 19

Part café, part bar, and wholly LGBTQ-friendly, Brug34 feels like your stylish Dutch friend’s living room. By morning, enjoy a chill breakfast with oat milk cappuccinos; by evening, it transforms into a laid-back wine bar with locals starting their night out.

📍Utrechtsestraat 19, on a quaint street near Rembrandtplein and the Skinny Bridge

🔥Tip: Drop in for bitterballen (deep-fried Dutch snacks) and a local beer. Sit on the terrace if weather allows.

Best LGBTQ+ Bar or Nightlife Spot

There’s “out all night,” and then there’s Amsterdam. These nightlife spots range from high-energy clubs to cheeky drag dens – our users’ favorite non-negotiables for a night out.

Club NYX – Reguliersdwarsstraat 42

Three floors. Multiple music genres. A glitter shower in the bathroom (there’s literally a DJ restroom). Club NYX is the beating heart of Amsterdam’s gay club scene, named after the goddess of the night for a reason. One floor blasts pop anthems, another throbs with techno, and another might throw you back to 90s R&B.

📍Reguliersdwarsstraat, the city’s main gay party strip (you can’t miss the rainbow neon)

🔥Tip: Wear something that glows under UV and don’t skip the bathroom DJ—yes, there’s a party even while you pee. Arrive before midnight to avoid the queue.

PRIK – Spuistraat 109

Amsterdam’s award-winning gay bar, Prik (which means “bubble” or “sparkle” in Dutch), is as fun as its name. The vibe is inclusive and they’ve got Prosecco on tap (in pink and white varieties, no less) and a signature pink mojito that packs a punch.

📍Spuistraat 109, a short walk from Dam Square.

🔥Tip: Try the on-tap Prosecco or the famous Prik pink mojito and hit the outdoor terrace. If it’s a Friday, join their Boardgayme Night.

Dragshow Bar Lellebel – Utrechtsestraat 4

Tiny, chaotic, and deeply beloved, Lellebel is Amsterdam’s longest-running drag bar – a kitschy, cozy spot where the drag queens might actually sit in your lap. Locals call it a “queer living room” – you’ll chat with trans folks, drag artists, bachelorette squads, and elder queers who’ve been regulars for 20 years.

📍Just off Rembrandtplein, at Utrechtsestraat 4.

🔥Tip: Mondays are open-mic nights where you can control the music, and Tuesdays are karaoke. Don’t be shy—at Lellebel, everyone’s a star after two gin-tonics. And don’t forget to tip your queens!

Must-Visit Cultural or Artistic Spot

Because even the club kids need a break to feed their soul. Take a breather and get cultured with these must-see spots:

Homomonument – Westermarkt

This is hallowed ground for the LGBTQ+ community. The Homomonument is a trio of large pink granite triangles on the canal bank, forming one big triangle — a memorial to all those persecuted for being queer, and a celebration of love and resistance. It’s moving, it’s photogenic, and it’s a reminder that Pride stands on the shoulders of those who came before.

📍Westermarkt, right next to the iconic Westerkerk church (and a short walk from Anne Frank House).

🔥Tip: Visit during daylight for the full emotional impact. Afterwards, stop by Pink Point (the little info kiosk nearby) for a souvenir or just to chat up the staff for insider queer tips. No cruising here please — keep it respectful.

Van Gogh Museum – Museumplein

Yes, you’re in Amsterdam and yes, you must do a museum. The Van Gogh Museum houses the world’s largest collection of Vincent’s works, from the famous sunflowers to self-portraits that stare into your soul. The building is modern and the art is mind-blowing, even if you’re not usually a museum gay.

📍Museumplein (the big museum square in Oud-Zuid) — you’ll see the queues and the big “I <3 Amsterdam” letters used to be here (RIP tourist sign).

🔥Tip: Book your ticket online in advance to skip the line. Seriously, they get long. Inside, silence your phone and soak in some culture. It’s one hour of art… you can handle it.

Anne Frank House – Prinsengracht 263

A sobering, essential pilgrimage. The Anne Frank House isn’t queer history per se, but it’s a profound human rights touchstone that resonates with anyone who knows the value of freedom.

📍Prinsengracht 263 in the Jordaan (you’ll notice the line wrapping around the block by the canal)

🔥Tip: Probably not a great idea to get on the grid here. Be respectful. Reserve tickets online weeks ahead, show up on time, and give yourself a moment after to decompress on a canal bench. It’s heavy, but you’ll walk out with perspective — and perhaps a deeper appreciation for all the freedoms we get to enjoy in this city.

Favorite Queer-Friendly Gym or Workout Spot

Get sweaty now, so you don’t have to turn the lights off later. Amsterdam locals are fit (cc: those biking thighs), so join in at these queer-approved workout spots:

Vondelpark – Central Park of Amsterdam (Oud-Zuid)

Your morning-after salvation and the city’s most famous park. Vondelpark is to Amsterdam what Dolores Park is to San Francisco: a green haven where all tribes gather. By sunrise, you’ve got shirtless joggers and tai chi groups; by afternoon, picnickers and cute couples on blankets. There’s even an open-air gym area if you want to pump some iron al fresco. And if you’re up early on a Sunday, you might catch a bootcamp of expats doing crunches and groaning in multiple languages.

📍Sprawling between Leidseplein and the Museumplein, easy to find via any tram or bike (just follow a local in athleisure)

🔥Tip: Go for a jog or join a yoga session on the grass. If you spot a hottie doing stretches, set up shop strategically nearby and do your best downward dog. After dark, the famous “rose garden” in Vondelpark has a… uh… reputation for cruising.

TrainMore City Gym – Singel (Centrum)

Ever wished your gym felt a bit more like a club? TrainMore answers that prayer. Housed in a converted historic building by the Singel canal, this gym pumps out dance beats as you pump iron. Three floors of equipment, mood lighting that makes everyone look a little sexier, and mirrors everywhere. This location is actually on the site of a legendary gay gym from back in the day, so it’s got built-in queer cred — nowadays you’ll find a mix of ripped locals and savvy tourists.

📍Singel 46, near the Flower Market (Bloemenmarkt) – look for the old church-like facade hiding a modern gym inside

🔥Tip: Day passes are available, so drop in for a one-time sweat. The view from the rooftop cardio machines overlooks the canal.

Het Marnix – Marnixplein 1 (Jordaan)

Part public swimming pool, part fitness center, this modern complex in the picturesque Jordaan has a 25m pool, a gym area, and even a sauna/steam room to relax in after you’ve punished yourself with cardio. It’s not branded as a gay gym, but on any given day you’ll find plenty of LGBTQ+ folks getting their endorphins here in a chill environment.

📍Marnixplein 1, Jordaan district (easy tram ride from Central Station or a scenic walk along canals)

🔥Tip: Swimming laps with a mild hangover is practically an Amsterdam queer rite of passage. After your swim, hit the small sauna to sweat out any remaining toxins.

Hidden Gem or Lesser-Known Spot You Need to Check Out

Here’s where the real stories begin. Off-map, under-the-radar, and full of that strange Amsterdam magic that happens after midnight (or on a lazy Sunday):

Café Saarein – Elandsstraat 119

A legendary feminist/queer bar, Saarein has been holding it down since the ’70s in a quiet Jordaan side street. Originally women-only, now everyone under the rainbow is welcome, but it still has a special place in its heart for lesbian/bi women of Amsterdam. Think dark wood interiors, a pool table, a jukebox that spans ABBA to Alanis, and a super laid-back, come-as-you-are atmosphere.

📍Jordaan neighborhood – Elandsstraat 119 (tucked among art galleries and canal houses)

🔥Tip: Order a jenever (Dutch gin) or a draft beer.

Café Montmartre – Halvemaansteeg 17

A little slice of Paris in the heart of Amsterdam’s old town, Montmartre is a hidden gem for those who like their queer nights with a side of camp and karaoke. It’s been voted “best gay bar” in years past, yet many tourists walk right by its unassuming entrance. Inside, you’ll find disco balls, vintage posters, and a very eclectic mix of patrons – from older Dutch regulars belting out Dutch levenslied (life songs) to young drag artists crooning power ballads on stage.

📍Halvemaansteeg 17, just around the corner from Rembrandtplein (tucked in a little alley)

🔥Tip: Montmartre doesn’t get going until late. Head over after the clubs (they’re open late late on weekends).  Grab a Parrot cocktail then sign up for the karaoke list.

Best Place for a Cruisy or Flirty Moment

Amsterdam wrote the book on flirtation and casual fun – here are the top spots Grindr users chose:

Reguliersdwarsstraat Sidewalk Cafés – City Center

Just sit, order a drink, and watch the beauty parade. Reguliersdwarsstraat is Amsterdam’s gay bar boulevard, and in the warmer months (or frankly, whenever it’s not pouring rain), the sidewalks transform into one big open-air flirt zone. Bars like SOHO, Taboo, and Exit put out terrace tables where groups of friends and lone wolves alike sip cocktails and scope out the crowd.

📍Reguliersdwarsstraat (between Koningsplein and Rembrandtplein – you truly cannot miss the rainbow flags)

🔥Tip: Snag a table at SOHO or outside Taboo, order a gin-tonic, and give a friendly nod to that cutie at the next table.

Gay Saunas & Cruise Clubs – (For the Very Open-Minded)

If your idea of a flirty moment involves steam rooms, dark rooms, or harnesses, Amsterdam’s got options. Sauna Nieuwezijds (city center) is the main gay sauna in town – a multi-level bathhouse with a steam room, dry sauna, jacuzzi, maze of cabins, and themed nights ranging from underwear parties to foam evenings. Over in an old church on Kerkstraat, Club Church hosts infamous fetish and dance nights. And for classic leather bar cruising, The Eagle on Warmoesstraat (see below) or its sleazier sister Dirty Dicks offer late-night dark corners.

📍Various locations: Nieuwezijds Voorburgwal 95 (Sauna NZ, near Dam Square), Kerkstraat 52 (Club Church, near Leidseplein), Warmoesstraat 90 (Eagle, in Red Light District)

🔥Tip: Check the theme and dress code before you go – nothing more awkward than showing up to Naked Night fully clothed, or vice versa.  Bring flip-flops for the sauna, and always bring ID (most of these spots won’t let you in without age verification). Be respectful, ask before touching, and make sure to hydrate.

Warmoesstraat Leather Bars – Red Light District

The neon-lit heart of Amsterdam’s Red Light District isn’t just for hetero tourists and their Red Light windows – it’s also home to the city’s historic leather and fetish gay scene. Walking into Warmoesstraat bars like The Eagle or Dirty Dicks is a rite of passage for many a gay traveler. Expect a friendly (if sweaty) crowd, bare chests under leather harnesses, porn playing on the screens, and bartenders who might be wearing only a smile and a pair of boots. During Leather Pride (each October) this street is one big block party of studs and fetish enthusiasts, but any weekend you can find a cruisy vibe.

📍Warmoesstraat, near Oudezijds Achterburgwal (a short stroll from Dam Square, just follow the smell of leather… or the sound of Madonna remixes)

🔥Tip: If you’ve never been, start at The Eagle for a drink on the ground floor and see how you feel. Feeling frisky? Venture upstairs or downstairs where the dark rooms are. Feeling shy? Stay by the bar and chat up an obvious regular – they’ve got stories for days.

Final Thoughts

Amsterdam is truly a queer playground like no other. It’s a place where you can admire Rembrandt by day and go to a clothing-optional dance party by night; where you’ll bike to a picnic with a date you met on Grindr and later end up singing karaoke with a drag queen at 3 AM. The city’s famously open-minded spirit means everyone’s welcome.

In Amsterdam, vrijheid (freedom) is practically the law. Be yourself, respect others, and enjoy every minute. Tot ziens, schat! (See you soon, babe!)

‍

Nearly a decade after his patient, empathetic debut, Spa Night, bowed at Sundance 2016, Andrew Ahn still wields sensitivity as his sharpest tool. It brightens the gentle boy‑and‑Korean‑War‑veteran bond in Driveways and, in Fire Island, turns the tender friendship between Joel Kim Booster and Bowen Yang into the scaffolding for a riotous house of queer warmth and trust amid the bacchanal.. 

In his update of Ang Lee’s 1993 screwball The Wedding Banquet, Andrew Ahn pairs Kelly Marie Tran and Lily Gladstone’s earnest parents with Bowen Yang and Han Gi‑chan’s messy, green‑card‑fraught romance, charmingly measuring what has—and hasn’t—shifted in the 30 years since the original. 

Queer visibility and rights have grown, yet, through the screwball lens, Ahn shows how desire and the power to fulfill it can still collide. Guided by his trademark compassion, he untangles the emotionally loaded choices queer adults face as they move into new life stages amid the people they love. 

Grindr spoke with Andrew about tradition, celebration, and how much has changed for the queer community since the original film, a few days before the film made its debut in US theaters. 

Q: Huge congrats on the film! How are you doing?

"I’m very tired, but I'm doing all right. I'm very ready to get this movie out there."

Q: You’ve said films like Spa Night are deeply personal; as your career grows, is it becoming easier or harder to maintain the balance between your personal bond with a film and letting it go to live its own life with audiences?

"I'll say it's harder to make personal films that are also more accessible and meant for a wider audience. I knew that the people going to see Spa Night would really understand my connection to the material. But with The Wedding Banquet, because it is a wider release, there are more people watching it, and I think you're more vulnerable. I also think that I get to Trojan Horse the personal aspects of the film into this rom-com genre. I think there will be some people who don't understand that connection at all, and that also makes me nervous, but I think I've grown a lot as a filmmaker, and have more strength to deal with audience reaction. And I'm very glad that many people have embraced this film so beautifully. And so I feel very ready. But, yeah, it's a weird thing to try and to make a quote, unquote, commercial film that you know is a lot about the phase of adulthood that I find myself in."

‍Q: Does that phase of adulthood also include some of the things that you've explored in your past work, as far as the compatibility between tradition, traditional Korean culture, and modern life?

"I think the older I get, the more I realize how interconnected everything is, and how my cultural identity and my desires for building queer family, my relationship to my boyfriend, my relationship to my parents. It's all so connected, and I hate it, right? I wish I could compartmentalize them in a way, but I've chosen to embrace them all and try to let them all coexist together, because I think that leads to a healthier life, even though it might be more complicated.

And so, I think about how I love my boyfriend and hope to get married someday. I hope to celebrate with some of these Korean traditions and rituals, which would bring me closer to my parents, because these are rituals that they participated in, and that would also bring them closer to my partner, you know? Like, there's just something about how all of those things influence each other that I don't want to deny. And so there wa  a wealth of feeling that I channeled into reimagining this movie."

‍Q: The film’s emotional ecosystem is clear: it celebrates the strides LGBTQ people have made since Ang Lee’s version, yet it keeps a sharp eye on how fragile those gains remain. Kelly says, “If it happens, it happens,” and Lily fires back, “Not for gay people”—a perfect snapshot of that precarity. How did you thread that needle?

"There's something so interesting about how it's hard enough as it is to be gay, without homophobia. That particular moment that you mentioned is lifted from my personal experience. My boyfriend said to me when we're talking about kids, like, “If it happens, it happens.” And there was something about him saying that that made me realize that as queer people, because we can't Whoopsie daisy a baby, we have to be extremely intentional about having children, and so any sort of hesitation could become a giant obstacle. And that's not homophobia. It's already complicated. 

We're already dealing with our own issues, whether that's self-loathing or bad parenting. I think that there are just so many obstacles, and so all I want is to have as much of a level playing field as possible in these rights to love who you want to love, have a family, care for the people, and protect the people in your life that you're close to. I think there's just a strange constant state of anxiety that we live in. And so, what's the way that we can combat that? And for me, it's chosen family. How can we trust in the love that we have for each other?"

‍Q: I think that's also evident in a line that Lily Gladstone says, where she's talking about how she is critical of institutions, but she is pro-celebration. Could you talk about writing that scene? 

"I think especially after we cast Lily, and my conversations with her about making the character Indigenous, and talking about the Duwamish people and how they're not federally recognized, just this desire to protect a legacy. And I think a part of that is tradition. And I think that there's a weird conflict, right? Because so many traditions can feel very heteronormative, and so, how do you balance those things? I wanted Lee to really just understand that there are beautiful things that can come out of tradition. And we just have to be very clear, in a way, about what's important to us, and what isn't? 

I remember going to a friend's wedding a couple of years ago, and her father gave a toast, and he said, I love you. And she was crying, and I went over to her and said, “Your father's toast was so beautiful.” And she said that he had never said, “I love you” before in their life, and that it took the wedding for that to get articulated. And as much as you can hate marriage and weddings, I was so happy for her. And so that's just what was part of what I was trying to get at. And it's kind of weird to say that, at least within my queer bubble, that me wanting to get married and wanting to have kids somehow feels radical, it feels so annoying to say that. Still, it does feel that way, because so few of my friends want those things, and there are very good reasons for that. I totally get it."

‍Q: I think it absolutely makes sense and is contrasted very nicely against the way that you frame the performance of heterosexuality and heteronormativity in the film. I love the photo shoot sequence. Could you talk about some of the setups and themes and ideas that you had devised for that sequence? 

"I think that there's something about the performance of love. I think there's a lot of performance in the film, right? Even Joan Chen's character may be a performative ally. Like, from the get-go, being on stage with a drag queen and a lion dance troupe—I wanted to give May another moment to perform later in the film. But I think, in that photo studio scene, I wanted it to be a moment for Min’s grandmother, played by the incomparable Youn Yuh-jung, to see the ridiculousness of what's happening and to have that open her up to something more real. I love that conversation that she has with her grandson, against this artifice of, like, a ski mother-daughter photo shoot, just to really articulate how we try to identify authenticity."

‍Q: We've talked a little bit about your love of bathrooms and having scenes in bathrooms. Could you talk about writing the scene with Joan Chen and Kelly Marie Tran in the bathroom?

"I think you have to be honest in a bathroom, people poo, people pee, in a bathroom, it's very clear. Even when you're getting ready, there's something about, like, " Well, okay, I have to acknowledge the human underneath the makeup or whatever. But it felt really important for that particular scene to happen in an unglamorous place, and for these characters to finally see each other. Regarding this question of parenting and allyship, sometimes people think that, once you figure it out, there you have it. Like May Chen wins an award, she's the perfect mother, and I think she's acknowledging in that scene that parenting and allyship are constant processes where you learn from each other—and that you shouldn't be afraid of the process, right? 

It worked out with the pregnancy test and just sitting on the ground. We rehearsed it, and at first they were gonna sit on the edge of the tub, but there was just something about the idea of, “Let's humble both of ourselves to the situation.” And it was just incredibly inspiring to see these two incredible actors work. It's one of my favorite scenes in the film. I should also mention that all four of my films so far have puke in them."

‍Q: Yeah, yes, I was gonna bring that up as well. 

"You can't, you can't deny puke, right? It's just like such a visceral feeling."

‍

Whether you’re a sweaty traveler on an MRT adventure, a local twink who can debate bubble tea toppings for hours, or someone who just wants a stiff cocktail and a handsome guy to show you around, this is your no-nonsense guide to the best of gay Taipei.

Watch the Episode

To cut through the tourist fluff, we went straight to the source — asking real Grindr users in Taipei where they eat, drink, dance, and recover. Take a look below for our curated travel guide:

Favorite Queer-Friendly Restaurant or Food Spot

These are the places you start your night with dumplings and end it three cocktails deep.

Mudan Bar & Restaurant – Ximen (Red House Plaza)

Old-school queer comfort food meets open-air bar vibes. Mudan has been serving Taiwan’s LGBTQ+ community for years with tasty Taiwanese xiaochi (snacks) and grill bites, all under rainbow lanterns.

📍 No. 45, Lane 10, Chengdu Rd, Wanhua District (behind The Red House)

🔥 Tip: Grab a plate of stir-fried noodles and join the communal table. By your second Taiwan Beer, you’ll be trading Grindr profiles with the table next door.

Din Tai Fung (Taipei 101) – Xinyi District

Yes, it’s a world-famous dumpling house and totally worth it. Think of Din Tai Fung as a pilgrimage spot for foodies (queer or otherwise) – the soup dumplings here are little pillows of heaven. The vibe is bustling but classy, and you’re just as likely to spot a table of gay friends on brunch as you are a family of tourists. It’s queer-friendly by sheer inclusivity – everyone’s too busy slurping and moaning over dumplings to care who you’re holding hands with.

📍 4F, Taipei 101 Mall, No. 45, Shifu Rd, Xinyi District (inside Taipei 101, access via Taipei 101/World Trade Center MRT)

🔥 Tip: The wait can be long, so go early or reserve. Practice your Xiaolongbao nipple pinch technique (lift those dumplings gently)!

Ay-Chung Flour Rice Noodles – Ximending

Street food legend and post-club ritual. There are no seats – you’ll join a huddle of patrons standing and slurping big bowls of vermicelli noodles in rich broth loaded with oysters and pork intestine (for the Western palate—trust us, it’s better than it sounds!). This corner stall has been around forever, and at 2 a.m. you’ll find drag queens, club kids, and maybe your latest Grindr chat all in line for a late-night snack.

📍 No. 8-1, Emei St, Wanhua District (in the Ximen pedestrian area, near Exit 6 of Ximen MRT)

🔥 Tip: Slurp confidently! It’s an art. Keep one hand on your bowl and one eye on that cutie next to you. Nothing says “marry me” like bonding over pig intestine noodles at 3 in the morning.

Best LGBTQ+ Bar or Nightlife Spot

There’s “out all night,” and then there’s Taipei. These are your non-negotiables for queer nightlife.

Café Dalida – Ximen (Red House District)

The granddaddy of Taipei gay bars and the drag hotspot that basically launched the local scene. Café Dalida is an open-air bar with a neon-lit patio that’s perfect for people-watching (and cruising) in the Red House plaza. Expect a lively mix of locals and foreigners, drag shows that range from campy to absolutely unhinged, and a soundtrack of pop anthems that’ll have you singing along by your second mojito.

📍 No. 51, Lane 10, Chengdu Rd, Wanhua District (in the Red House courtyard, Ximen MRT Exit 6)

🔥 Tip: Arrive by 9pm if you want a seat (seriously). Order the signature mojito, tip the drag queens, and don’t be shy – by the end of the night you might be onstage attempting a Mandarin pop lip-sync. Ni hao, new superstar!

G*Star Club – Zhongshan District

Ready to dance your pants off (perhaps literally)? G*Star is Taipei’s most famous gay dance club, hidden in a basement but known citywide for its high-energy parties. Three words: pop remixes galore. The crowd here skews younger and local with plenty of cute college guys and pop enthusiasts, but everyone is welcome as long as you’re ready to sweat on the dance floor. There’s a bar, a stage for occasional go-go boys or drag performances, and even private karaoke rooms when you need a breather (or a duet with that handsome stranger).

📍 B1, No. 23, Longjiang Rd, Zhongshan District (near Songjiang-Nanjing MRT – listen for the bass thumping underground)

🔥 Tip: Dress to impress (or undress). The later it gets, the wilder the crowd. Don’t be surprised if you end up shirtless, covered in glitter, belting out Britney with ten new friends. This is your Taipei club-kid moment – live it fully.

Wonder Bar – Da’an District

A lesbian-owned gem and inclusive haven in Taipei’s East Side. Wonder Bar is all about chill vibes, strong cocktails, and a crowd that feels like your queer friend circle back home. It’s a smaller lounge with cozy couches and a zero-attitude atmosphere – you’ll find queer women, trans folk, non-binary pals, and allies mingling like it’s a house party.

📍 No. 23, Lane 38, Section 1, Anhe Rd, Da’an District (hidden in a lane near MRT Zhongxiao Anhe – look for the rainbow flag by the door)

🔥 Tip: Come on a themed event night (think queer trivia or acoustic sets). The friendly bartenders might just invent a cocktail for you based on your vibe. And yes, there’s a secret menu shot – ask for the “Gayby” if you’re feeling bold.

Must-Visit Cultural or Artistic Spot

Because even the thirstiest traveler needs a break from dropping it low at the club. Take a breather and get cultured with these must-see spots.

The Red House (Honglou) – Ximen

A cultural landmark turned queer landmark. The Red House is a historic 1908 theater with a gorgeous octagonal structure – by day it hosts quirky artisan shops and occasional art exhibits, but by night its surrounding plaza becomes the epicenter of gay Taipei. Walking through its brick archways knowing it’s been witness to a century of drama (from Chinese opera to drag extravaganzas) gives you goosebumps. It’s basically Taipei’s Rainbow Ground Zero.

📍 No. 10, Chengdu Rd, Wanhua District (Ximen Station Exit 6 – you literally can’t miss the big red brick building)

🔥 Tip: Visit in early evening. Tour the little cultural museum upstairs (peek at old theater memorabilia), then snag a pic with the big rainbow sign out front. If you’re lucky, you might catch an outdoor drag or music performance in the plaza. Culture + gay nightlife in one stop? Yes please.

GinGin LGBTQ+ Bookstore – Zhongzheng District

Part bookstore, part community center, all queer culture goldmine. GinGin is Asia’s first LGBTQ+ bookstore, a cozy fourth-floor haven packed with queer literature, zines, pride merch, and indie art. It’s the kind of place you can flip through a Taiwanese gay manga, chat with knowledgeable staff about the local LGBTQ+ scene, and maybe catch a weekend talk or small art exhibit.

📍 1F, No. 8, Alley 8, Lane 210, Sec. 3, Roosevelt Rd, Zhongzheng District (near MRT Taipower Building, just follow the rainbow stickers up the stairwell)

🔥 Tip: Pick up a sexy comic or a Pride souvenir to support local queer artists. If you’re traveling solo, check their bulletin board for LGBTQ+ events happening during your stay – you might end up at a queer film screening or underground voguing night you’d otherwise miss.

Longshan Temple – Wanhua District

When you need to atone for last night’s sins (or pray for future ones), hit up Taipei’s most famous temple. Longshan is an ornate Buddhist-Taoist temple that’s been around since 1738 – think golden dragons, incense galore, and worshippers of all ages. It’s not “queer” in the obvious sense, but queer locals (and hopeful tourists) do come to pray for love here.

📍 No. 211, Guangzhou St, Wanhua District (Longshan Temple MRT – the temple is right outside Exit 1)

🔥 Tip: Dress modestly (save the crop top for later) and observe the candle-lighting ritual. Make a wish for true love or a hot date – the deities don't judge. After soaking in the spiritual vibes, stroll to the nearby herbal tea shops for a revitalizing drink.

Favorite Queer-Friendly Gym or Workout Spot

Get sweaty now, so you don’t have to turn the lights off later.

Da’an Forest Park – Da’an District

Taipei’s own version of Central Park, lovingly nicknamed “Gay’an Park” by some locals for its plethora of shirtless joggers. Da’an Forest Park is a green oasis with running paths, ponds, and even an outdoor tai chi plaza. By morning, you’ll see toned guys doing yoga or jogging laps (bonus: cute dog walkers everywhere). By evening, the mood lighting makes it perfect for a stroll with that new friend you met on Grindr.

📍 Xinsheng South Road & Section 2, Xinyi Road, Da’an District (Right at Daan Park MRT Station)

🔥 Tip: Go at sunrise for the tai chi and stay for the impromptu pull-up contests at the park’s fitness area. If you’re feeling bold, join a local badminton game – nothing breaks the ice like a little sweaty competition with the cute stranger in short shorts.

Xinyi Sports Center – Xinyi District

Who needs a luxury gym when Taipei’s public sports centers are this good? The Xinyi Sports Center is a multi-story fitness palace complete with a gym, swimming pool, and even a climbing wall, all at budget-friendly day-pass rates. It’s clean, modern, and right in the fancy Xinyi neighborhood. The crowd is mixed but you’ll definitely spot some gym bunnies and maybe a visiting businessman or two sneaking in a quick pump before hitting the town.

📍 No. 15, Guangfu South Road, Xinyi District (near Taipei City Hall MRT Exit 3)

🔥 Tip: Day pass costs less than your grande latte, so no excuses! Hit the rooftop track for a killer view of Taipei 101 while you run. And if you forgot your water bottle, the vending machines sell protein shakes—gains, babe. Go get ‘em.

World Gym (Ximen Branch) – Wanhua District

If you must get your grind (and Grindr) on at a proper gym, World Gym Ximen is the place. This branch of the popular chain is smack in the middle of the gayborhood, meaning eye candy on every treadmill. It’s got all the standard equipment, plus a hefty dose of queer-friendly energy.

📍 B1, No. 36, Xining South Rd, Wanhua District (Ximen Station Exit 6, under the Wannian Building shopping complex)

🔥 Tip: They offer one-day passes (around NT$600). Bring your own padlock for the locker and your best gym attire. Pro move: hit the sauna room after your workout – it’s basically a preview of tonight’s party, with fewer clothes.

Hidden Gem or Lesser-Known Spot You Need to Check Out

Here’s where the real stories begin. Off-map, dimly-lit, and full of strange magic.

Witch House (女巫店) – Da’an District

A quirky café-bar-meets-live-music-den near university campus, Witch House is an alt-queer cultural landmark. By day it’s a chill cafe serving waffles and coffee to artsy queer folk and indie music lovers. By night, it transforms into an intimate live house featuring local bands, folk singers, and the occasional drag folk music mashup. This is the spot for a low-key night of board games and craft beer, or a starting point before club-hopping.

📍 No. 7, Lane 56, Sec. 3, Xinsheng South Rd, Da’an District (near Shida Night Market and NTU – look for the witch logo sign)

🔥 Tip: Check their event schedule; you might catch an open-mic night and end up listening to a non-binary punk band singing about tofu. Order the enchanted hot chocolate (spiked with a little whisky).

Yong He Soy Milk King – Da’an District (Late-Night Eatery)

The name might not scream “gay hotspot,” but hear us out: this 24-hour Taiwanese breakfast joint is the unofficial after-party canteen for Taipei’s night creatures. Stumble in at 4 AM and you’ll find a glorious mess of drag queens with their wigs askew, club kids in glitter, and maybe a few gym rats breaking their diets – all feasting on steaming bowls of salty soy milk, crispy youtiao (fried crullers) and scallion pancakes.

📍 No. 102, Fuxing South Rd, Section 2, Da’an District (corner of Fuxing and Xinyi Rd; open 24/7, just follow the smell of fresh soy milk)

🔥 Tip: Try the shāo bǐng yóu tiáo (flatbread stuffed with fried dough). Don’t worry about your diet at this hour.

Commander D – Ximen (BDSM Bar)

Tired of the same old bar scene? Head to Commander D, Taipei’s first and only BDSM-themed gay bar, for something a little spicier. Tucked away on a second floor, it’s surprisingly easy to miss – until you’re inside and greeted by a harness-clad bartender and walls adorned with kinky art. The crowd here ranges from curious newbies (nervously sipping beer) to leather daddies proudly flaunting their gear. It’s friendly, it’s wild, and it’s definitely a story to take home.

📍 2F, No. 10, Chengdu Rd, Wanhua District (above the shops at Red House, entrance hidden next to a leather goods store – of course 😈)

🔥 Tip: No need to suit up if you don’t have gear – casual attire is fine (but leave the flip-flops at home). Show respect: ask before touching anything or anyone. Try their strong “Master’s Special” cocktail.

Final Thoughts

Taipei is truly a queer paradise of its own. A city where you can slurp street noodles at 3 am, sweat out those toxins in a rooftop gym by noon, pay respects to a temple deity in the afternoon, and march in Asia’s biggest Pride parade come October – all while feeling welcomed and celebrated for who you are.

So pack an umbrella (seriously, surprise rain is real), charge your phone (the grid here is also real), and say hi to that drag queen ordering boba in front of you. In Taiwan, love wins and everyone’s invited – now get out there and make some memories.

‍

Dear Grindr Community,

At Grindr, we’re all about connection—whether it’s a spark, a scroll, or something a little more… hands-on. But in a world obsessed with optimizing every aspect of life—from your sleep score to your gut microbiome—there’s one nutrient-rich resource that’s been scandalously overlooked.

That’s right, we’re talking about cum.‍

Today, we’re hosting the world’s first Interactive Cum Calculator¹— a Grindr Blog exclusive that finally puts the vitamins, minerals, and precious protein of your favorite milk substitute under the microscope. Forget potatoes, protein bars, and kale smoothies. 2025 demands more. It’s time to log your daily intake of the world’s most unexpected nutrient source.

How to Use the Cum Calculator

1. View the Cum Calculator below.
2. Enter the Number of Loads you want to calculate.
3. View Your Results, which will show an approximate nutritional breakdown (calories, protein, etc.).

That’s all there is to it—no extra steps or details needed. Show your friends. Show your family. Show the world.

Naturally, these figures aren’t carved in stone—hydration, diet, and cosmic forces of testicular load all play a role. But we’ve compiled enough data through our research in order to give you a good idea.

Disclaimer: While the ingredients in a load are generally safe, ingesting it is not FDA-approved for nutritional purposes. But hey, before you get too adventurous, remember: practice safe sex and get tested regularly. Stay safe and savvy, babe.

Can Your Diet Handle Loads? A Checklist

Vegan — Some folks say if it’s from any animal, it’s a hard no. Others claim if it’s a consenting human, it’s basically cruelty-free—you decide, because the last thing we want to do is mess with a vegan.

Keto — Remember, every carb counts, but if you can pencil it into your 25-gram limit, you can consider it part of your daily bread (or just count is as electrolytes and move on).

Paleo — Our ancestors didn’t count macros—they just rawdogged life, ate whatever they could catch, and died at 30. If unprocessed, ancestral simplicity is your vibe, consider this the OG protein source. Farm-to-table? Back then, it was cave-to-mouth. Drink up.

Intermittent Fasting — No protein can go in your mouth before 12pm. But after that, go ahead, girl, get your fill.‍

Carnivore — Beat your meat and eat it too. With fruits and veggies off the table, a consenting partner’s contribution might be the only variety you’ve got left.

More Disclaimers

1. Not an Endorsement: We’re not telling you to replace breakfast, second breakfast, or even midnight snacks with, well, cum. Any medical professional would likely yell at us.
2. Social Repercussions: Whipping out the Cum Calculator during a conversation about local produce might send your dinner guests scurrying. Use responsibly.
3. Evolving Science: Like any frontier, the data will evolve as more daring souls look deeper. To that we say: we’re on it. So don’t be surprised if next year’s iteration includes charts on pH levels and differing flavor profiles.