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“Papi,” you may be wondering from your couch where you regularly sit to read Hola Papi!, available exclusively on, “is there any question you can’t answer?”

The answer, dear reader, is no. Apart from legal questions regarding an unfortunate incident at an Oklahoma City Panera franchise location, I can truly tackle them all.

To prove it, I will be completing a rigorous task that advice columnist Mallory Ortberg regularly accomplishes at Dear Prudence, but which is difficult for me because I barely care enough: I will answer three of your questions in one Hola Papi! Wow. Three answers. I’m like a gay Latinx genie. I’m great.

Ready? Let’s get into it.


Hola Papi!

I am a 20-yr old university student in the UK, and I've bought tickets to Sasha Velour's club performance in Birmingham in February. The problem is, I don't have any friends to go to the gig with, and because I am a textbook introvert, clubbing isn't really my thing. 

However, I LIVE for Sasha, so I am confused if I should go for the performance or simply sell my ticket. I should note this would be my first time in a gay club, so going alone seems really pathetic and intimidating. 

What should I do: go watch Sasha Velour perform or wait until I have friends to go to a gay club with?


Velour, But no Valor

Sis, go to the show. I can’t think of a better place to find queer friends to go clubbing with than at a Sasha Velour performance in a nightclub.  

What other kind of event are you holding out for? Are you waiting for an invite to the Queer Knitting Society? Have you filled out a Google Doodle for the poppers sampling tour? I need answers.

In all seriousness, going somewhere alone can be really intimidating, which is weird considering how much time we spend with ourselves. We As Queer People™, though, ought to practice enjoying solo activities and meeting each other out there in real-world spaces.

Go without the expectations of making friends. See a great show, and let that be enough. And who knows? You might meet some people along the way.

Stuff some rose petals in your wig and go bond.


Hola Papi!

Recently, I met a guy who I thought was charming and attractive. We have been talking, and he wants to go out.  

However, while doing my pre-date research, I discovered he is an ex-boyfriend of a friend-ish of mine. I say friend-ish because we aren’t close, but when we hang out he goes out of his way to be nice to me and include me. He definitely would be a better friend if I let him get closer. 

In heterosexual circles it would be taboo to date a friend’s ex. What is bro code in this scenario?


Code Breaker

I don’t know if this is an actual heterosexual taboo. I don’t think of the heterosexuals, and I don’t enjoy being reminded of them. So I will take your word for it on that.

With that out of the way: Girl, friend-ish? 

I don’t mean to frighten you, but there really aren’t that many of us gays walking around compared to the general population. If none of us were allowed to date the people our friends have dated, there would hardly be anyone left except me.

Further, if I start clicking with a guy, I’m going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than “friend-ish” to keep me away from sinking mis dientes into that.

We’re talking “is he the ex-husband of the man who pulled me from that burning building in Prague” levels. “Is he engaged to the woman who revived me with CPR after I nearly drowned in the Holiday Inn pool” levels.

You get it.

It’s nice you want to maintain a rapport with your semi-friend-if-you-could-call-it-that. I think that means you’re probably a good person. If it makes you feel better, you could certainly discuss it with him.

But they’re no longer together. They should probably both be looking to see other people. You qualify as “other people,” and if your “friend???” is a grownup, he will understand. 

If he doesn’t, I eagerly anticipate his letter.


Hola Papi!

I’m a Brit in my (just over) mid-twenties and I’ve been dating a Mexican guy for the last half a year. He’s been over here studying a Masters degree and his Visa is about to expire and he’s had no luck on the job front, meaning he’ll be sent back to Mexico.

I’ve been looking at teaching English abroad as a foreign language for quite a while, but I hadn’t actually considered anywhere as far away as Mexico until he suggested it a few days ago.

He’s opened my eyes to a whole new culture, and I think it’s the polar opposite of the stuffy, cold, dispassionate British stereotype that I’ve suffered with. Plus, with Brexit looming over us, now is as good a time as any to make a quick escape and start fresh in a new country.

So I suppose my question is: Is it crazy to move across the world and start a new life? Or do I just see it as crazy due to my “prim and proper” British upbringing, when really people move to different countries all the time?

Ayúdame, Papi!


Churro Lover

Ignoring your microaggressions, I will say that while I am always reluctant to give the “Move For Him” advice, I would make an exception in your case.

It sounds like several things were already in play before Mexico was brought up. You want to teach English somewhere. You’re displeased with the cultural climate of the U.K. You describe the place as stuffy and cold, and you “suffer” it. Please apologize to the Queen.

Most crucially, I notice you didn’t mention a single thing that would keep you there. Did you notice that too? It’s something to explore.

However, I would caution that if political unrest isn’t your bag, then Mexico might not be the place for you. Imagine the furor of, like, ten Brexits happening in a country where protesting is something of a national pastime. Todo bien?

Like anywhere, there are places to go and places to avoid. Most of Mexico is wonderful. The country gets a bad rap, no thanks to Trump. It’s my favorite place to go, in fact!

I’m just saying, if you think you can avoid corruption and political instability by going to Mexico, well, you might want to rethink that. Don’t arrive there and then suddenly decide it’s too spicy for you. That would be stressful for everyone involved.

Still, call me a slut for whimsy—I think we should all take a risk every once in a while, and this sounds like a reasonable leap. When you arrive, tell them Papi sent you.

Just kidding, don’t do that.