Zakaria Ibrahimi, born and raised in Seattle, started cruising early. Still, they remember that first time like it was yesterday. “we have a park here called Volunteer Park,” he recalls. “It’s gorgeous and it's been known as a gay cruising spot I think since the 70s.”
That late summer evening, with a chill in the air, he ventured into Volunteer Park without knowing exactly what he was looking for. They followed a few guys into a secluded clearing, and happened upon their first cruising scene. “I wasn't sure what the etiquette was,” Ibrahimi says, “but I was immediately engaged.” Thus, a lifelong cruiser was born.
In those heady days of the early aughts, cruising was incredibly popular around Seattle, Ibrahimi says. “It was really typical at that time to walk down the street, catch the eye of somebody that you're interested in, and and follow them home,” they remember. But when gay dating apps began popping up, the cruising landscape—and attitudes towards cruising—changed drastically.
People began meeting via apps and websites instead of on the street. Cruising spots got quieter. But as the tech developed, cruising began to be branded risky, or, for some reason, less sophisticated than meeting via apps or websites. “It was it was something branded as I think trashy in an era of gay conservatism and heteronormativity,” Ibrahimi says. Scrolling a grid was more convenient than sneaking out to cruise, and, in that era, convenience won.
But as Ibrahimi tells it, something changed around 2020. He’s been a faithful Sniffies Cruiser since the map’s inception, but suddenly he saw the platform beginning to grow. Having a digital space that enabled and encouraged real-world cruising, they say, was really helpful. “I want simplicity,” he says. Six years later, they say, Seattle is in a full blown cruising renaissance. “People are learning how to cruise. People are asking about cruising. People are researching cruising,” he says.
As more cruising spaces becaome popular, Ibrahimi wanted to create their own—but they wanted it to feel different than many cruisey parties and events that already existed. “Historically, if I'm in one of those spaces, and it's an overwhelmingly cis gay cookie cutter experience,” he says, “I notice myself engaging in this performative masculinity that, for me, lingers over the room.” Instead, he wanted to make a party that “existed outside of that narrative, where everyone was welcome, no matter what your gender or sexual expression is.” That’s how Bathhouse Disco came to be.
Now, hundreds of people come through to cruise and meet at the monthly event. “We have a large core community of emotionally intelligent and socially aware horny people who are grateful to have a cool, fun place to meet people and have a good time,” Ibrahimi says. At it’s core, the party is about the same connection, the same exploration that drew Ibrahimi to cruising all those years ago.