Voted 2007 Best Gay and Lesbian Bar  more

The bar looks like it was decorated by gay men- not your hip young metrosexuals, but your old-school, Judy- Garland-and-Broadway-musical-loving boys.  Framed photos of Hollywood legends line the walls: James Dean, Marilyn, Elvis, Bogie and Bacall, even Judy herself, accompanied by her costumed co starts in The Wizard of Oz. Large picture windows across the front offer a wide-angle view of Broadway under the sleepy setting sun.    The inebriated Young Republican smooths his bar-tousled head.  Pointing woozily at one of the photos, he says, “Look! Andy Griffith and Opie! Did they come in here?”

Scotty, the bartender, grins: “As long as he don’t leave Opie’s side – that’s the law in here.” Scotty’s wearing a red Polo ballcap and the tightest jeans this side of the border and it’s easy to see why he’s popular with the customers, Several gaze longingly at him, their eyes following every step as he dances back and forth behind the bar, pouring drinks, cracking jokes and flirting, never once losing his endearingly boyish perma-grin.

In fact, the Barker was decorated not by gay men, but by a straight woman, Sherrie Long, who took over the former Club Stud, cleaned up the run-down male stripper bar and rechristened it On Broadway.  A year ago she sold the spot to Patrick Vigil and Laurence Sermo, like and business partner of 23 years standing. They brought their own personal touch to the place, adding kitschy treasures from the Cluttered Closet, their vintage-furniture shop in Congress Park : classic Schwinn bicycles, Vigil’s collection of 8-track tapes, his father’s electric guitar. They traded the flimsy plastic patio chairs for wrought-iron furniture, installed a fountain and pond featuring live goldfish (the hardy Colorado variety, since they swim perkily in thirty-degree weather), added a deck, canopies and a grill.  And then there are the dogs, Stuffed dogs, ceramic dogs, plastic dogs, wooden dogs – dogs of every shape, size and breed that crowd the shelves behind the bar and ostensibly embody the bar’s new name.

“The official story,” Sermo explains, “is that it’s name after our three dogs. The unofficial story is that men are dogs, you know? So years ago, when my friend Bobette and I were driving around, we’d woof out the window at cute guys.  If they were good-looking, we’d say they were a ‘barker.’  If they were really good-looking, we’d say they were a ‘barker-lounger,’ because you just wanted to lounge allover them! So when we had our grand opening, people asked what the name of the bar was.  It had to be the Barker Lounge.”  And not just a Barker, but a “stray” bar.  “It’s a comfortable place to come and chat,” says Sermo.  “The clientele shifts. During the day it’s mostly gay but at night it’s a mix – everything from realtors to cross-dressers to engaged couples.”

The star of the Barker is a six-inch-tall plastic dog named Butch that the couple picked up at a dollar store.  One day Butch mysteriously disappeared; a Barker regular later told Sermo he’d spotted the pooch at a bar down the street, Butch eventually found his way back home, but he was a changed dog, now sporting a Mohawk, tattoos and a pierced nose. He brought with him a souvenir of his time away: a photo album filled with pictures and poems illustrating his tour of Denver GLBT bar scene.  The last entries show Butch at the Compound with an affectionate new friend, alongside the caption: “I heard they called this place the Dogpound, so I had to check it our. I was the only dog there, so what was that all about? I had a few beers and cigarette or two – I hung out in the restroom ‘cause they said that was the thing to do.  When I came out, I met this really nice guy, who shared with me a beer and was not very shy.  I thought I was ready for my first one-night-stand but we knew it wouldn’t work because he was a man So back to my bitches, that’s what I enjoy the most, and back to the Barker Lounge and returned to my post.”

Welcome home, Butch.  Now go, and stray no more. -  Debra A. Myers