by David Yip
Aged 32, I am single—my first gay relationship has ended. After lying to myself and others for years and only dating women, perhaps I had too many expectations, but I am devastated.
My younger sister tells me to give myself a couple of weeks. During that time she comes to the flat, and we have film nights whenever I’m not working.
Once again, I turn to music. Though best known for her debut album Fast Car, Tracy Chapman’s album Matters of the Heart is my favourite. Her song “The Love That You Had” strikes home. I relate to her lyrics: “Was I wrong to forgive your indiscretions? Should I have been more hysterical, less understanding? If you’re looking for a villain, go on and assume the role. Don’t say it’s my fault that you’re not in love with someone.”
Despite the breakdown of our relationship, I remain on friendly terms with my ex, and we go on holiday to Gran Canaria. It is while visiting there that I decide I want to live there.
I return home to tell my family, with something else also needing to be settled. Although most of my family know I’m gay, my dad has yet to be told. A week later, my mum meets my dad and says, “You know you always used to call David gay?” Dad denies it. “Well,” she says, “he is.” My mum calls me to relay their conversation, and I ask what he said. She says the only thing he said was, “What will my friends say!”—and with that, he left. No one hears from my dad all weekend, and it isn’t until a week later that my elder sister calls to say my dad wants to meet me. We arrange to meet in a local bar, and I ask my younger sister to come with me. Sitting down together, my dad says, “So, your mum says you’re gay?” I say, “Yes, I am.” He replies, “I have five children, and if one of them is gay, then it doesn’t make any difference to me.” We sit and enjoy a drink together, and I’m relieved that it’s now out in the open.
After only being at the Coot Restaurant for a couple of months, I tell my boss my plans. He tells me I’m making a big mistake and will be back within months. He goes on to say that when I do return, he will happily give me my job back, and he is to be the first person I call.
Even though I earned a considerable salary, I have very little savings, as although I worked hard, I partied harder. I try to sell everything I own. Even though my brother and sisters all have their own homes and don’t need anything, they purchase most of the contents of my flat, which gives me the savings I take with me—something for which I remain grateful.
My family organises a farewell meal at a local Chinese restaurant, with everyone attending. We have a great evening, but saying goodbye to my brother and sisters, along with their children, is very upsetting. Despite arguing in our youth, we are all extremely close, and I know I will miss them all.
I spend my last night at my mum’s house before Diane comes to take me to the airport the following morning. With her car packed with everything I now own, it’s time to say goodbye to my mum. I give her a big hug and tell her not to worry and that I will call as soon as I land. Getting in the car, my sister sets off, only for my mum to start running after the car, crying. I tell my sister to keep driving—otherwise, I won’t go. She replies, “Don’t worry; I’ll be doing that at the airport. I’ll be kicking you out of the car, and that’ll be that!” laughing as she says it.
Arriving at Manchester Airport, I check in and turn to say goodbye to my sister. She gives me a tight hug but doesn’t pull away and starts crying. I tell her she needs to let me go so I can get my flight, but she says, “Don’t go!” I tell her I need to and that she can visit anytime. We let each other go, and I walk through the check-in area, waving to her as I go. I immediately head for the nearest toilets, lock myself in a cubicle, and cry my eyes out.
When I land in Gran Canaria, I call my mum to tell her I’ve arrived safely. I ask if Diane got home OK, and my mum tells me she didn’t get home until much later, as she was too upset to drive back, so she sat in her car for hours before setting off. I ask for her to come to the phone, but my mum says she’s too upset and will speak to me soon. It takes a couple of weeks before she is able to talk to me without getting upset.
I’m met in Gran Canaria by my new boyfriend, whom I met during my holiday earlier in the year. I fell for his amazing personality and spent most of my holiday in the bar he works in. One night while there, he tells me that although he was only supposed to be there for two weeks, he plans to move out there and asked me then to do move out there with him.
We go back to a fourth-floor, two-bedroom flat in San Fernando, a small area in Playa del Inglés, which we will share. My boyfriend has a friend in his 60s whom he has known for years, and he shares his room with his African girlfriend, who is 30 years younger than him. My boyfriend tells me that, despite warning his friend he is being used, he won’t listen.
My boyfriend works in the evening, so I accompany him, walking down to the Yumbo Centre in Maspalomas, a 20-minute walk away. The Yumbo Centre is known as the gay centre; it is full of bars, restaurants, sex shops, supermarkets, and clubs, most of which are owned by gay people. It is built over three floors in a large open square. The first two floors, being below road level, are accessed by steps from different areas off the road. The ground floor is mainly bars lining the sides, with a large open terrace and green area in the middle. The second floor has shops, restaurants, and more bars that again line the perimeter. Only one side has a third floor, which is home to the late-night clubs.
Gran Canaria. Phototograph by Summer Stock on Pexels.com
I have decided not to work as a chef in such a hot climate and instead seek work as a barman. I call into all of the bars asking for work and am met with the same response: it’s not about what experience I have, but how many languages I speak. I quickly realise that finding work will not be easy, as there are lots of people doing the same thing who are bilingual.
Having only been there a week, my boyfriend has a night off, and we head into the Yumbo Centre to watch a drag show. As we approach the bar, the drag queen says over the microphone, “Here come the girls!” I turn around to look at whom she is talking about, and my boyfriend laughs, saying, “She’s talking about us.” I say, “I’m no girl.” The drag queen goes on to say it’s the island’s newest couple, and I don’t know how, but she seems to know a lot about us. During the night she comes over to talk to us and tells us she hopes we are strong, as the island has a way of splitting couples up, saying, “Some men think they are kids in a candy shop!”
After two months I haven’t found any work, and my savings are quickly disappearing. I visit Ricky’s, a drag bar on the ground floor. While most bars are a single or double locale (the size of a garage), Ricky’s is made up of three locales with a large ceiling-covered terrace running its full length, plus additional kerbside seats. The bar is owned by a gay couple, Gail and Sandra, who have a drag queen and two others as business partners. I sit at the bar and ask Gail if she has any jobs going. She replies, “If you’re looking for work, why haven’t I seen you in here before as a customer?” I don’t have an answer, and she asks me to leave her my number.
Gail calls me the following day and asks me to do a trial shift that evening. I am to be there at 6:30 p.m. to help open the bar before it opens at 7:30 p.m. There is no staff uniform, and we can wear what we like. I meet Sandra and Ricky and am introduced to the other staff, who show me what to do. It is explained to me that Ricky’s has a free drag show each night, and we are to ensure guests have full drinks while they are seated watching the show. “No drink, no seat,” Ricky often says over the microphone each evening. We are given a money bag with a cash float inside. When guests sit down, we take the orders, which are given to the staff working the bar. Drinks are then made up and placed back on the bar for us to take to guests. All staff working the terrace cover all areas, with it being down to you to get to them first, thus gaining drink sales.
Having never worked with the public before—spending my career in kitchens—I find it difficult to approach people and ask them for drinks. I go to tables and clear ashtrays and get drinks if I’m asked. At the end of the night, I take the least amount of money, and Gail tells me I need to get better.
Once the bar closes, we all stay for a drink, and while I’m sitting at the bar, a guy asks if I enjoyed the show. I don’t know who he is and say yes, but I didn’t see him. He tells me he is one of the drag queens, and I’m gobsmacked that the person I’m looking at now was one who had been on stage.
My second shift is the same. I walk up to tables but can’t ask guests if they want more drinks when I can see their glasses are more than half full. Another member of staff walks up to them after seeing me move on and gets the sale. Sandra calls me to the bar and asks why I didn’t get the sale. I lie and say I’d asked, even though in truth I had just made conversation.
After my third shift finishes, Gail calls me into the dressing room, which is also where they cash up and keep the safe. She tells me that once again I was the lowest earner of the night, so she won’t be offering me any more shifts.
I tell my boyfriend the bad news on our way home and say I will look for work tomorrow.
Visiting another centre in Maspalomas, I call into a restaurant that has a sign displayed seeking staff. After talking to the owner, he hires me as the restaurant manager, and I start the following day. The restaurant is a new business and is extremely quiet. With no customers, there is nothing to do, and I hate it. I work there for three days before I receive a call from Gail saying they want to give me another chance if I would like to go back that night. When I get to Ricky’s, the drag queen I spoke to after my first shift tells me he’d told Gail it was a mistake to let me go because of the way I looked and dressed, and to give me another chance.
Ricky’s is a hugely popular bar and gets customers from all nationalities and backgrounds. Photograph David Yip
Although I’m not the highest earner on the terrace, I settle into the job and start to enjoy it. Leaving work each morning at 2 a.m., and despite our best intentions, we go up to the bars on the next floor most nights. Here we meet the tourists who had spent the evening watching the show—some remain friends to this day.
Christmas Day arrives, and it’s my first one away from home and the first in many years that I don’t have to work. My boyfriend and I put a picnic together, buying a bottle of champagne. We walk to the beach and, in glorious sunshine, enjoy a completely different day than we would have had in the UK. We make phone calls home, and it’s great to hear from our families, who laugh when we tell them where we are.
Ricky’s is a hugely popular bar and gets customers from all nationalities and backgrounds. Due to my looks and tan, I am often mistaken for being Spanish. This causes some issues with Spanish guests thinking I’m being ignorant when I don’t understand them or reply. My boyfriend and I decide to pay for a private Spanish tutor. The first thing I ask is that she teaches me to say, in Spanish, “I am not Spanish; I am English and Chinese” (No soy español; soy inglés y chino).
After work one night we return home to find my boyfriend’s friend and his girlfriend are still awake. She tells us that what we are doing is wrong and a sin, which goes against God and the teachings of the Bible. I tell her that she is little more than a prostitute, who only sleeps with her boyfriend for his money, and ask what the Bible says about that. We don’t get on from then on.
Because of this, and also having no outside space to enjoy the weather, my boyfriend and I look for somewhere else to live.
With us both in full-time work, we find another flat in Maspalomas, a 10-minute walk from the Yumbo Centre. It is a ground-floor, two-bedroom flat with a large rear garden and two pools for residents to use—perfect for my family when visiting. The rent is 680 euros a month, with bills extra. Despite us both working a six-day week (which is normal for bar workers in Gran Canaria), wages are not high. I take home 1,200 euros, with my boyfriend taking home slightly less.
Our days off are spent exploring the island, from its capital, Las Palmas, for shopping, to the beautiful beaches of Anfi del Mar or the stunning fishing village of Puerto de Mogán. Despite Gran Canaria being only a small island, there are lots of places to visit.
Time passes quickly working six days a week. We enjoy being in our new flat, having our own space, and I love waking up in the morning and throwing myself into the pool each day.
I arrive at work one night with everyone, but the bar manager is absent. Despite my bosses trying to reach him, he doesn’t show up. My boss tells me I am to be moved off the terrace and work the bar, working alongside her. At the end of the night, once again I am called into the office. Gail, my boss, says, “Well, we’ve discovered your talent!” I ask what she means, and she tells me, “Not only did you serve the terrace waiters their orders, but you also took more money than them from guests you served over the bar.” I am very relieved, thinking that once again I was to be dismissed (my imposter syndrome all over again). She goes on to say that from now on, that is where I will stay.
The bar manager returns to work two days later, telling us he had a mad night and couldn’t face work. He is surprised to find I am working the bar alongside him. During the shift he tells me to slow down, as I’m making him look bad, and I say it’s just the way I work. At the end of the shift we are both called into the office. Gail and Ricky tell us that I am to be made joint bar manager and that he is lucky to keep his job. He accepts this and is told to leave us alone. Gail says because I have more responsibility, I am to be given a pay rise, which is great news.
Each evening, Ricky introduces the staff to guests over the microphone. When it comes to me, he says, “And the miserable sod behind the bar who never smiles is David.” I tell Gail I’m here to work, not be a clown, and I smile when I like to, not on order.
Our nightly visits to the bars above continue after work, meeting new tourists each week who want to go for drinks. I am with some guests from the bar one night when my boyfriend comes over and drapes himself over my shoulder, being overly touchy. I ask what he’s doing, and he says, “Just letting people know you’re mine!” I tell him not to be ridiculous and that he should know he can trust me regardless of who I’m with.
Each year Gran Canaria hosts Gay Pride week, with over 250,000 people visiting. There is a street parade on Saturday, where lots of businesses decorate open trucks, with the staff from each bar dressing up and handing out free gifts and drinks en route. My younger sister is coming over for it to enjoy a holiday. Now we have a spare bedroom, she will stay with us, having only to buy her flights. The rest of my family go on to do the same while I live there, with my sister visiting several times a year.
With my sister in Gran Canaria. Photograph David Yip
Although I am told we will be busy, I don’t expect so many people, and each evening we are packed out. Not only are all seats full early each evening, but people also come to the bar and stand outside watching the show. I take over the job of restocking the fridges each evening. Rather than waiting for the soft drinks and bottled beers to completely run down, I wait until there are three rows left in the fridges before emptying them and restocking, putting the cold ones back on top. I do this to avoid people being given warm drinks, as I know I would hate it.
A party of 12 comes to the bar, and I take their drink orders. Going on to serve the waiters and other guests, one of the party gets my attention a while later and asks, “Can we get some drinks?” I say, “The same again?” He stares at me and says, “Erm, yes!” I make all 12 drinks and tell him the amount. He checks his other receipt and then starts to clap, saying, “You are unbelievable! I can’t believe you remembered all our drinks! This is for you,” and hands me 20 euros.
The day of the parade arrives, and we have all had clothing made to wear. We start the day early, going to the bar to decorate the truck, loading it up with a sound system and the gifts and drinks we will give away. The parade lasts for over three hours, and it’s so hot walking around the roads. At the end, the truck has to be stripped with everything removed before we open the bar for the evening. By the end of our shift, I am exhausted, but yet again go upstairs for a drink to relax before heading home.
I have been with my boyfriend for two years when I head upstairs to meet guests from the bar. While getting served at the bar, one of the party runs over to me and slaps me on the bum, saying they are pleased I came up. I turn to pay when, from behind, my boyfriend runs up to the bar and sends the guy flying, pushing him into bar stools. I am gobsmacked and immediately turn to him, shouting, “What the hell are you doing?” I help the guy up, and my boyfriend says, “I’m sat over there and saw him touch you up!” The guy starts to apologise, and I tell him there is no need and that it was nothing. Turning to my boyfriend, I tell him that if he ever embarrasses me like that again, it will be the end of our relationship, as I can’t cope with his jealousy and him not trusting me.
Ricky’s has hired two new staff: a guy from London and a girl from Newcastle called Cat. A colleague tells me they have a bet on who can get me into bed first. I ignore them both.
I introduce a cleaning routine for the fans that surround the interior walls inside and hang from the walls outside, blowing over the terrace. The bar isn’t air-conditioned, and if they aren’t kept clean, they are useless. As always, most of the team head upstairs for a drink after work, and I’m questioned by the two new starters why I don’t speak to them. I tell them I’m there to work, not make friends, as my real friends are back home.
After two and a half years, I break up with my boyfriend. The island’s environment has changed him. His fantastic, carefree personality has gone, and I can no longer cope with his jealousy. My younger sister worries about me, and I tell her I am OK and looking forward to her next visit.
A new drag queen has been hired at the bar called Andi Martine, and he is well-renowned in the area, bringing in big crowds each time he performs. On his first night I am mesmerised by his performances. He has boundless energy, looks amazing, and his acts are hilarious. The crowd absolutely love him. My boss, doesn’t seem to like this and starts to make cutting remarks while on the microphone.
At work, Cat splits her time on the terrace and also working on the bar. I show her how I work, when to do the stocking-up jobs, etc., and we become a great team. Cat also has a troubled relationship with her girlfriend, who is very jealous and becomes violent when drinking. Her relationship also doesn’t last.
My boss Gail becomes a great friend and helps me buy a car. When I am taken ill, she takes me to a private doctor and pays for my care. I ask that this be taken from my wages, but she refuses.
While living in Gran Canaria, my holidays are spent visiting back home, and I always tell my family they get the better deal coming out to the beautiful weather. During one visit I meet up with my dad in a working men’s club for a drink. I casually light a cigarette and carry on chatting. It is then that someone shouts, “What the hell are you doing?” and points at my cigarette. The UK had banned smoking inside bars and restaurants, and living abroad, I had completely forgotten. Having no ashtray to use, I run through the bar to get outside, with guests looking at me like I’m holding a bomb! Cat has been put in charge of Ricky’s in my absence, and although she is nervous, I know she will smash it. I return to my boss telling me that “although she isn’t you, she did a great job.” I laugh and say, “You couldn’t cope with two of me.”
Despite always saying I would never do drag, being out of my comfort zone in other outfits, I agree to do it with some friends. Two of the drag queens in the bar have offered to do the transformation before we all head out for the evening. We head to Ricky’s, and the visiting tourists are left gobsmacked when, over the microphone, Ricky points me out, standing outside. I have a great night with friends, but this is the only time I do it.
Despite always saying I would never do drag, being out of my comfort zone in other outfits, I agree to do it with some friends. Photograph David Yip
Things start to change at work. My boss, is drinking a lot and becomes bitter towards working there. On one occasion, while trying to remove the Chinese people who wander onto the terrace selling cheap items, he swears over the microphone at one of them and follows this up by saying, “That’s how you get rid of a useless chink—this time it’s not you, David!” I tell Gail I’m going and won’t stand for that. She tells me I’m not going anywhere and she will handle it. Another time he calls out Andi on the microphone and tells the crowd, “Some people get above their station and forget who they are—when it’s my name above the door, not theirs.” Andi comes to the bar upset, and I tell him to ignore him, as everyone knows who’s the most talented. Customers don’t escape his tirades either, and while he had always been sarcastic in his humour, his remarks become more ruthless, without humour.
I remain on the island, dating the guy from London who started working at the bar at the same time as Cat. We are there for her during her break-up and keep socialising after work when her employment ends at Ricky’s. She goes on to work as a manager in another bar in the centre and remains one of my closest friends to this day, now living back in Newcastle.
The drag queen Andi Martine, who started working at Ricky’s, leaves, taking two drag queens with him to set up their own bar. I am left as sole bar manager when the guy who shared the position with me also joins them. Despite being asked to go, I remain loyal to Ricky’s and Gail.
The global recession in 2009 hits the travel and hospitality industry hard. Staff are cut back at Ricky’s, with my boyfriend being the first to be let go. Despite his efforts, he can’t find work elsewhere.
After seven years living in the sun, expecting to remain there all my life, I go home to Barrow.
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