I remember it like it was yesterday: The first time I walked into a 24-hour gay club in Atlanta Georgia in 1998. A senior at Boston College, I was down South visiting my dad, and my new gay friends from the club scene had graciously agreed to show me what a “real” night out partying looked like.
By 5 am, the 50,000-square-foot, 3-level club at the corner of Peachtree and 6th was pulsating with energy, hundreds of shirtless men sweating and dancing together under the disco ball.