Descending into Bunker, D.C.’s leading nightclub for gay men, the familiar fragrance of sweat and tequila overwhelmed me, filling me with anticipation of what the night had to offer. My most recent trip was paradoxically a night of both emotional clarity and memory loss—something I’ve learned to expect from a night here. Bunker was once an unfamiliar experience, and nothing will ever compare to the first time I stepped through the vault door.
After letting my eyes adjust to the absence of stable lighting during my initial visit, I was greeted with the sight of a fully naked go-go boy dancing on the bar. His raw vulnerability eased any first-time hesitation I had left. Looking over the crowd, it was hard to tell where one shirtless man started and another ended. Given the sheer number of Bunker dwellers, you have to get used to proximity. Adjusting to this new environment, my friend and I quickly learned to lose our shirts and melt into the crowd. Thankfully, Bunker has a clothes check for all to use, a feature not often found in D.C. nightclubs. After years of seeing Instagram posts of half-naked gay men at raves, I had previously come to the conclusion that these men just left the house in a jock, but the innovation of a clothes check clarified a lot of lingering questions in my mind. Say what you want, but when queer people see a problem, they find a solution; where there’s a will, there’s a gay!
Bunker’s decor is innovative as well, designed to feel as though you are waiting out nuclear fallout. Given recent world events, I’m curious if Bunker could actually function as a bomb shelter. I may ask—I wouldn’t mind being holed up here for a while. The front entrance is a heavy industrial vault door, providing a sense of separation from the outside world, supporting the notion that what happens in Bunker stays in Bunker.
Once you’re able to throw the door open, the interior design impresses auras of chaos and jagged edges while alluding to the queer culture it was created for. The decor tastefully reflects the hypermasculine, party lifestyle those within Bunker aspire to. The designers of Bunker used chain-link fences and exposed concrete, which maintains a virile presence throughout the venue. My favorite decorative element at Bunker is the accent wall behind the DJ setup: an intricate collage of analog machines and old pieces of technology. The intentions behind the design elements are subtle, but crucial to maintaining the circuit vibe that Bunker impressed upon me.
Gay men of all ages overwhelmed the dance floor, although I’m unsure if popper-induced swaying can be considered dancing. Since being in D.C., I’d yet to feel the freedom I felt here at Bunker. While my initial ambitions for the night did not include the salacious behavior surrounding me, the autonomy to wear (or not wear) what I want and selectively partake in activities I choose gave me a great sense of appreciation for this environment. After the end of an identity-defining situationship, Bunker gave me a strong sense of liberation amid a tasteful amount of chaos. No rules governed this place, and no one dared raise an eyebrow at what anyone else was doing—or snorting. I soon realized that the beauty in a place like Bunker lies in its absence of rules. Queer men especially have grown up facing ridicule for expressing themselves, and Bunker is the perfect escape from the criticism of everyday life.
While talking with the night’s assortment of men, I learned that most of them were respected professionals in many industries. Typical for D.C., the Thursday night crowd sought an escape from a staggering four days of work. While this assured me that life post-grad might be somewhat fun, I’m not sure if I’ll be able to balance both a professional and circuit gay lifestyle. Consultants, legislators, and lawyers made up most of the dance floor, raising the question: Do these people even work on Fridays?
Over the few short hours I first spent in Bunker, I witnessed countless men pair up to take a trip to the bathroom. In an increasingly radical political climate, it was heart-warming to see queer people using the buddy system to ensure each other’s safety. While I won’t go into the happenings of the Bunker bathroom, I will say the flushed cheeks and crooked jockstraps leaving the stalls left little to the imagination.
Despite this, Bunker is not merely a sex playground, as they organize events and invite performers integral to the queer community. The club often hosts drag queens, DJs, and pop-star-themed discography nights. These are always towards the front half of the night, so if your GBF (girl best friend) watches too much Sex In the City (1998-2004) like mine does, it would be safe to entertain her dream of going to the gay club. There’s typically a humorous migration out of the club as the venue shifts from a drag show to a more sordid vibe for the latter half of the night. After that point, I can’t imagine there’s much a straight woman would want to see.
Overall, my first night at Bunker back in my [REDACTED] year at Georgetown provided me with an intense but inspiring glimpse into the gay scene of D.C. Free from the smothering presence of pseudo-frat guys eagerly awaiting their chance to voice a slur, I felt that for one night I could behave without consequence, for better or worse. Given that I rarely miss an opportunity to return, it’s no surprise that I highly recommend Bunker for those looking to have a wet dream of a night.
