Tuesday, 29 April 2008

'Mr Sex': Don't Worry, It Doesn't Mean That I'm Gay

So it’s happened again. I’m at a club in town, tossing back Bulleit and Cokes like there’s no tomorrow, and passing the time by chatting to a lady. About ten minutes in, when we’ve got a bit of sand down between us, she leans in.

“Can I ask you something?”

Fucking yes, I think to myself. Yes, you can take me home, right now, and cut yourself a massive slice of my sex-cake. Yes, you may boing up and down upon me like the Bouncy Castle of Sex I indisputably am. I grant full permission. Oh yes. Let’s go. Hang on, let me get some johnnies first from the bog. I’ve already got one in my wallet, but I love going in there and dropping a couple of quid, so everyone else having a slash can see that I’m on the verge of getting some, and they’re not.

And then she says it;

“Are you Gay?”

Oh God, not again. Seriously, if I had a quid every time a woman asked me that, I’d have enough money to buy something that cost £27. Am I Gay? Me? I laugh, shake my head, and say no. Then they think I’m definitely Gay, because I haven’t kicked off at them for even implying it. I can’t win. I am a victim of the modern age.

Back in the day, of course, everyone know what proper homosexuals looked like, because you saw them on telly all the time. There was John Inman. And Larry Grayson. Nowadays, ask the average person what a Gay man looks like, and expect a welter of answers far removed from the limp-wristed, handbag-swinging stereotype of yore. In fact, let us count some of the reasons why women had thought I was Gay (because I always ask);

Because I shave my head

Because I was having a drink with a mate, who also shaves his head

Because I was dancing with my mates

Because I was wearing a pink shirt

Because I was drinking vodka and cranberry

Because I was ‘really nice’

Because I was smiling all the time

Because I said I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a fight with anyone

Because I’d spoken to a woman’s mate for ten whole minutes without asking if she was available

Because some game between two Premiership teams I don’t give a monkey’s wank about was on in the room next door, and I wasn’t watching it

Because I looked ‘really happy’

(my head-shaving mate, who is black, gets it even worse; when he gets asked by women if he's Gay, he asks "Is it because I'm not grinding up to you and saying "So what yuh saying, daahtah?" And they say; "well, yeah". What the fuck does that say?)

Strangely, I come away from these experiences feeling supremely good about myself. After all, if you run down the most common straight assumptions of what it is to be Gay these days, most of them are pretty damn positive. They look after themselves. They’ve seen the inside of a gym more often than not. They have a personal hygiene routine that extents somewhat from rubbing an after-shave sample out of FHM on their armpits. They dress well. They’re not knuckle-dragging bell-ends. Obviously, that’s as much of a stereotype as the “Ooh, where’s me handbag, ducky?” one, and it says far more about heterosexual mores than homosexual ones. But if some misguided madam thinks that my stylish, sensitive ways has turned me into some unattainable ideal, so be it.

But to be honest, a shag would have been nice as well. Next time, I'm gonna say, "Yes, I am. I'm as Gay as a trumpet, but I can't help myself. Just one look at you is making me question my sexuality. My Cher CDs, my leather chaps, my Council Cock DVDs - all that shit is going on the fire tomorrow. Convert me. Now"


11 comments:

thene said...

Awesome blog. This caught my eye:

Because I was dancing with my mates

That's what all the straight guys I know in the UK do...and what only one of the straight guys I know in the US does. Men here seem to go to clubs to watch women dance with other women. The difference is a bit eerie.

Kiilas said...

This blog posting is priceless. It sums up our times. I translated it into my native language and sent it to 5 of my friends, male and female. Thank you so much!

Andy said...

I think I've had every item in that list. Apart from the hair one. And the pink shirt. You wear pink shirts? :-)

Devin said...

For the record the only proper way to handle this situation as the woman doing the asking is as follows:

"So, are you gay?"
"no"
"Great then, fancy a date/shag?"

We complain that "all the good ones" are gay so for crissakes girls, when you find one that is not, don't stick your foot in your mouth.

And even if you have your doubts give the fella the chance to prove you wrong.

Amb. said...

I like how you ended the post. I have a gay friend who has actually had women offer to "convert" him.

Btw, since when is head shaving gay?

PaadunudP8idlakyydiP2evaraamat said...

Excellent point!

badgerdaddy said...

I can't help but think the staggeringly camp Vin Diesel might have something to do with head-shaving's perception as gay - though I know you were being asked that before Mr Diesel came on the scene, Mr Sex.

I wear pink shirts too - women love 'em! Mind you, I look like a very short bouncer, and I think the more masculine you are, the better pink looks on you. I specifically wear them when I'm in the US for work, as no-one in the US that I've seen wears pinks shirts. Makes me very easy to spot in a crowded exhibition, and I've had people recognise me just because of the shirt.

And for the record, I suspect Mr Sex looks fucking manly.

Lynx said...

I think Right Said Fred might have influenced the bald = gay idea.

thene said...

I had a dream last night about my nice, shaven-headed boycrush who doesn't care much for football, who I haven't seen in months. I blame this blog.

Any major dude with half a heart said...

The woman I ended up marrying asked me on our first proper date whether I was gay. I don't remember what made her think I was, I didn't and don't qualify for most of the things on Mr Sex's list, except I'm nice and not given to macho posturing. Oh, I think I might have done my convincing impersonation of my old colleague Juan, who was camper than any cliché.

Anyway, I responded by saying something like "Well, you'll have to find out, won't you?" She did, obviously.

I've also been told I'm gay because of my occasional engagement in gay rights issues. But I don't think I'd like to shag any of the people who draw that kind of fuckmuppeted conclusion.

Pol said...

Nishlord,

spot on article, and a situation I've been getting since time immemorial.

Add to this being a Glaswegian who couldn't give a Tories baw-bag about foottball and to most girls in the G I might as well have been wearing a dress.

It does seem that unless you are trying to rape some girl or glass any man near her it is proof irrefutable of poovery upon the high seas.

The self same self serving self deluding women will be commiserating with each other at the scarcity of good men.

Women don't want good men, they want to fuck the alpha male Cromagnon knuckle walker and get soppy cunts like the rest of us to pay to raise the bastard kid of Captain Caveman.

Fuckem, I might as well jump the fence and be doen with it, The gay world is a walk= in the park compared to the labyrinth of madness that passes for thought with most modern gals.