Ah, club nights. Loud music, soft lights reflecting off moving bodies, and that constant expectation of fun and connection that makes you feel like anything is possible. I was excited to have my first experience in a gay disco in a long time (let’s make it 15 years?), a place where, in theory, freedom, inclusion and, why not, some interesting encounters are celebrated. But, as life teaches … sometimes things don’t go as planned. I enter Flexo in Padua for my first time (during the popular Beardoc night, which I had enjoyed a lot this summer at Pride Village), the bass of electronic music already vibrating under my feet. The space is small, dimly lit, and already crowded. The first thing that strikes me is to recognize some familiar faces, but not because we were friends. They were faces I had met on various dating apps and indeed I was pleased to see them in person. I thought, naively, that this would make it easier to break the ice, a kind of “hey, we already know each other, or don’t we?” However, as per my friend and companion’s warning, I notice that none of them come up to greet me. There is only a dance of quick glances, of those glances that last a second longer than necessary, but nothing more. …
