ANTEBELLUM BLOG: RICK CASTRO: CRUISING: GAY MATCHBOOKS

11/14/26

RICK CASTRO: CRUISING: GAY MATCHBOOKS

11/14/2026/SATURDAY/5:45AM

CRUISING: GAY MATCHBOOKS. 2026

@bettyfordcenterofficial
published by @darkentriesrecords
⁠
An archive of 200 matchbooks from historic and oftentimes forgotten gay bars and bathhouses, drawn from the collection of Darian Newman,
this clothbound, 256-page hardcover hints at all sorts of tactile, in-person and transgressive pleasures, while also functioning as a gorgeous and celebratory design time-capsule. ⁠
⁠
Edited with text by Darian Newman.

Text by Peter Berlin, AA Bronson, Michael Bullock, Michael Andor Brodeur, Marke Bieschke, Rick Castro, Lucas Hilderbrand, Owen Keehnen, David Kennerley, Juanita MORE!, J. Todd Ormsbee, Erik Piepenburg. Photographs by Linda Simpson.⁠

THE MEATRACK

During the late 80s/early 90s the place to be was the MeatRack.

Located on Santa Monica Boulevard near Vermont Avenue in East Hollywood.

After finding a place to park. Usually at the shopping center next door, (parking violations were rare in the era) you would then walk behind a faded wood fence and enter a warped door. Now you were in a small, dingy lobby where you paid a modest fee to someone behind a booth with a small glass window. Little or no words were exchanged. The lobby had a TV monitor projecting hardcore porn with a couple lonely benches for sitting.

You now had a choice to walk down an almost pitch black hallway or exit into a patio with a dead tree and no lights. If you chose the garden, there was a few random places to sit and suck face with another patron, or enter a backroom with a barn door style entrance. Upon opening the barn door a slight ray of light allowed a brief glimpse of the packed room. Once the door closed it was pitch black. Sounds of sucking and fucking were enhanced in the darkness. Every now and again someone would yell, “fuck yeah!” The complete autonomy of this blackout room would give me a hard on… sometimes. Other times it felt like sensory deprivation.

If you chose to walk down the almost pitch black hallway. You would find about ten wood stalls for a more private encounter. Next to the stalls was another public room with slightly more light than the barn outside, follow by a no light toilet and sink. There was always a piss pig situated under the toilet hoping for a drizzle or full load. Selfish me always denied them.

Everybody went to the MeatRack…. I was there every weekend without fail. Glen Meadmore, Jeff Judd, Rick Owens, Ron Athey, Vaginal Davis, and Robert Woods from Drance, just to name a few. I remember one night after an Afro Sister performance, I was going to the MeatRack and Miss Davis was interested to go as well, however she wanted me to take her home to change out of drag. I told her, “look the place is so dark, just take off your wig and makeup. No one will notice you’re wearing high-heels.

In the middle of the dark room. Apparently someone did while they were sucking her dry on their hands & knees. The sucker inadvertently touched her high-heels and shouted out, “THAT’S A REAL TURN-OFF!”

One Friday evening I stopped in to have a quick dickie in one of the stalls. Afterwards I went back into the lobby to have a seat away from all the sex. I was intrigued to find The Exorcist was playing on the TV monitor. Thinking this was the most unlikely place to see this horror classic, I ended up watching the entire film. Nobody hung out in the lobby. When guys would come in and see me fixated on the flick, they would join for a scene or two. During the head spinning scene, one guy got aroused enough to go into the backroom and relieve himself.

On another Friday I met this absolutely sexy blond boy wearing full leather. I was pleasantly surprised when he followed me into a private stall. Clearly he was out of my league in the real world. There was an entirely different lust driven motivation that allowed guys to have sex here, that they would never talk to in real life.

He gladly took my lead as we sucked face for what seemed like hours. I then rubbed my willie between his buns until we both came in unison. Postcoital we actually had a great chat in the lobby. I asked if I could see him again and he stated that he was in a committed relationship. Sneaking out to the sex club was a rarity. I tried my best to get his phone number, but he just wouldn’t give. I did walk him to his motorcycle, gave him the deepest passionate kiss, then watched him put on his helmet with black-out vision. Full black leather, high biker boots, fitted motocross leather pants, tight leather jacket, gloves and a helmet that now made him anonymous. I watched him drive off West on Santa Monica Boulevard and thought to myself, this is what dreams are made of.

After much debate with the residence and East Hollywood city council, the MeatRack closed in 1996, converting into a secondhand clothing store.