(Photo by Ted Eytan)

By DCist contributor Leigh Giangreco

You could be anyone you wanted to be at Town.

At the two-tiered megaclub on 8th Street NW, with its pulsing lights and packed crowds, go-go dancers and exuberant patrons alike became instant stars when they mounted platforms perched high above the dance floor. Glitter-bombed drag queens pulled tricks out of unexpected sleeves and men embraced identities as loveable bears.

For many in D.C.’s LGBT community, Town felt radical because it was the place you could be yourself.

Now, after more than a decade, the stalwart gay club will transform into something less extraordinary. Town is closing its doors to make room for another apartment complex in the gentrified Shaw neighborhood. Partygoers will no longer spill out of the boxy club onto the corner of 8th and Florida, clamoring for a jumbo slice from gay pizza after a long night of dancing to Lady Gaga. Will anyone even call it “gay pizza” anymore when there’s just another faceless condo next door?

Patrons have been saying their goodbyes to Town for the past year, and will have a chance to do so one last time at Saturday night’s closing party. On a recent weekend night, the line wrapped around the block and up Georgia Avenue. But those waiting to get in weren’t just looking for one last good time. They were saying goodbye to the place that hosted their first kiss, their first one-night stand, their first drag show, and often their first home in the city.

All but three of the following interviews took place in the line as people waited to pay tribute to Town in its final weeks. They have been edited only for length and clarity.

Here, in their own words, are their stories.

Lucas Goodman, 29, D.C.
During Pride two years ago, I was with my husband and a friend of mine from college. We were going out that night and I’m pretty sure we got [to Town] pretty early. We were there until at least 3 a.m. It was our first time there in a little while, and it was Pride, so it was packed and the crowd was changing all night. The dance floor was really hopping. We just had a really good time.

It was 4 a.m. when we went home. We went to bed and had no idea what happened in Orlando. Then I woke up the next morning earlier than I’d like and turned on the T.V. It hit me like a punch to the gut. There’s all sorts of mass shootings in the U.S., but this one felt personal. It felt like it was, if not my friends, it was people who could have been my friends, and it could have been me. It felt very visceral, and I thought back to literally what I was doing at the same time as those people getting shot.

Albert, 24, D.C.
I was a freshman in college and I wasn’t out yet and I came to Town with a couple of gay friends and I was like, “Guys, I’m still straight.” And we got here and I started dancing with all these guys and my friends were encouraging me and encouraging all the men. And I was like, “Oh my god, I’m gay!” I realized that literally at Town. I made out with like seven guys that night, it was amazing. And that was the first time I made out with a single guy ever. I felt like myself finally, for the first time ever. And a year later I was with a guy at Town and he ended up being the first guy I had sex with.

I don’t know what it was but the vibe is good, everyone’s in a good mood. Everyone’s gay and that makes a difference too and this is where I can really be who I am. Because I can be so comfortable here and everyone is so chill with everything. This place has meant so much to me over the past eight years, I can’t believe that it’s closing! I don’t where I’m going to go.

Sophie Robinson, 24, Pittsburgh
I was 21, my male friend was 21, I had another male friend who was 25, and a female friend who was 19. These two boys were religious and I didn’t really know how they felt about gay people and I was unsure if they would enjoy [Town]. When I suggested it, I said there’s go-go dancers and drag queens and it’s a really good time. And they gave each other weird side-eye.

We got there and my friend who was the same age as me, he just kind of hung back and wasn’t super engaged. He looked like he was taking it all in and I didn’t know if he was that comfortable. My other friend was giving money to the go-go dancers, so it was sort of this funny group of people having a really good time.

The next day, the friend who was the same age, we went for a drive and we got to talking about our lives and boys. I said, “What about you, do you have a girlfriend?” And he just said point blank, “Well, I’m gay.” I just burst out laughing. I was really uncomfortable and we just had this really sweet conversation. I told him, “I was really nervous taking you to this club last night because I thought for religious reasons you were homophobic and now today you’re coming out.” I think for him it was a relief to have someone laugh. He had just come out to this other friend of ours a couple days earlier, the one giving money to the go-go dancers.

I think going there that night made him feel like it was OK. [He] could have fun and embrace himself. For me what Town represented was this nice memory of a time when I shared this special experience with a friend. It’ll always sort of be there in memory. It was a place where you could explore.

Donna Slash, 34
We threw the Big Gay Flea here one time and we had 2,000 people come through. Then we hosted a drag show after to do a closing party and it was so packed. That was so fun because we had everybody shopping outside at a flea market and then they came in for a drag show, it was wild. But like wild in the best way possible. It was so flea-bitten, everybody did these old songs from the 80s, it was like Transvision Vamp and New Order but like old, dusty New Order records. Everything felt so dusty. It was very fun.

Pamala Flinn, 45, Winchester, Va.
I used to go there as a guy and I would go up on the second floor and get up on one of those platforms and I would dance for the crowd and I would strip down as much as I could. So when I finally started transitioning and started growing a little, I went ahead and did it as a trans lady too. It’s a great rush. All those people, all those lights, it’s just amazing. … The security didn’t quite know what to do. Guys had their shirts off so when I took my shirt off they were kind of like, should we say anything? Because this is a boy or this is a girl? They didn’t know what to do. I just had a good time. They let it go.

Cecil Shelton, 31, D.C.
(laughs) Who remembers nights at Town?

For me, Town is like someone’s living room. Because you have all these different people that know [each other] through all these different groups that never see each other unless it’s at Town. I have my friends who are into athletics, my policy friends I used to work with at [the Department of Defense] and I’ll see them at Town, and that’s the only place I’ll see them.

Devin Colbert, 28, Va.
When I came out, Town was somewhere I went every single Friday night. I knew everybody there … and it was a really safe space for us to go and have fun and be really happy and proud.

Town was definitely where you’ll see your own people, like lesbians, gays, trans people, everyone, all in one place. Just being friendly to each other and dancing, and just literally throwing the week away and having fun together as a community. That was different for me because it was the only place I could identify as a lesbian where I could be around people who were just like me at the time. Town was always that for me when I first came out.

Tim Savoy, D.C.
Tonight I was telling friends I’m going to cry because this is my last night going. I remember in college when I was at [George Washington University], you’d come on Friday if you were 21. You’d scrape together cab money, there wasn’t even Uber. But the club … I wasn’t even out and it was the one place you could just get lost in. And it was literally everything that you could want living in a city and not feeling comfortable with who you were. And now it’s closing and it’s so weird because now we’re professionals in the city. It’s still a great club but we’re coming here nostalgic tonight. Now we’re able to drink without a fake I.D. and we’re able to go to the ATM and not worry about overdrafting your account.

The club’s so big, you almost felt anonymous being here. Like that you didn’t have to be seen, you just danced. The first time I saw two men or two ladies kissing was here. I’m not gonna lie, it was experiences like this that encouraged someone like me from Alabama to come out. I really hope that someone in line here is going to meet their first boyfriend or even one-night stand. I know that sounds bad, but they’re going to meet them here and feel safe and feel comfortable being who they are because D.C. is one of the most welcoming cities and this neighborhood is the epicenter of being out in D.C.

I can’t listen to anything off the Lady Gaga Fame Monster album without thinking of being on the first floor, drunk or sober, and screaming your heart out. I still to this day can’t. There was that whole era of Lady Gaga and Rihanna, like “We Found Love” and “Poker Face,” those songs defined an era of our life and you can’t separate that from a club like this.