It’s late by which I mean 9.30 at night. I have these really great blog ideas at 7.30 in the morning. But at this dark hour, well, you’re gonna get this dribble.
TC seems to have the most logical prospect on things. He’s the sensing & feeling one. He has a weakness though. He likes straight men. He dashes his hair, twinkles his eyes, shines a toothy smile and even the straightest of guys will blush. It’s a reason I keep him on a short leash. He can roam the gayborhood all he wants, I ain’t worried about him.
Sucking down a beer at bar near my office, he professes that gay guys fundamentally don’t like other gays. Because gay guys actually want straight guys and since that’s not likely to happen, they have to swim around in a swill of homos and make the best that they can. It’s no surprise then of the brevity of relationships (if we can call it that) or that cattiness that seems to per mutate the social behaviour of all queers. The factor is only magnified when this community assembles. I will forget for a moment that TC is anything but straight, in fact polar opposite of me might be a better description.
I went to my first area ‘Gay Professionals’ group dinner. and while I didn’t walk away with any new contacts, I went, enjoyed myself amongst the elderly over 30 set. This group has a certain element of calmness about them, a bit more settled, whatever game they’re playing, they know how they’re playing it.
As I’ve written, and you’ve long suspected, despite my dinner, I’m really not all that comfortable with this whole concept of a ‘gay community’. I have no need to be protected. I’m not shunned from any venue and may god have mercy upon the soul of the individual who attempts such. Nor do I find it particularly interesting to be amongst ‘my kind’ unless I’m in hunt mode.
TC is though in a different spot. He does find comfort in the gayborhood. Woman are at ease with him (talking about fashion or hair or feelings or other such rubbish). Most of his friends are homo. It’s because of where his own story started. It is indeed, his world.
I’ve been trying to fit in and like a pair of shoes that just don’t fit. I’ve discovered I don’t wanna wear them. I tried. I tried really hard. Christ – I went to a Pride event. I watched Bravo for god’s sake. I tried to remember when Fashion Week was (or is, I can’t remember, wasn’t it recently or maybe it’s coming soon). I tried to act like I had feelings. I even do a decent bitch attitude. But if I drink one more vodka cranberry, I’m gonna throw up. It ain’t me.
So I’m resigned that I will just have to accept me. And the homos will have to accept me as some distant clan member and the straight folks will as well. It’s a lonely island I sit, but it’s my island and the view, on a good day, is great.