I’m looking at match.com. At woman. I’m being realistic, age 40-52, there are 112 pages of them in the DC area. Almost all have written a sincere and detailed profile of themselves, where they are in their life and what they’re looking for. Most have flattering pictures of themselves. A professional marketing job.
Putting match.com into reverse, I pulled up the guys seeking guys in the same age range. A mere 6 pages appear. The profiles tend to be shorter with gems like, “I was much hotter 10 years ago” (weren’t we all), “I am exclusively a bottom” (best to put that on a T-shirt), “I’ve had my share of hook-ups but I’m settling down” (from a 44 yo, obviously 44 is when you settle down), “I like to drink a little, gets me talking” (hate to guess what comes next). But amongst the silliness is the guy saying “I want to fall in love with my best friend.” I liked that one best. Probably a bottom.
The Internet is full of gay bloggers of all ages bemoaning some lacking aspect of their life (that an recipes for banana nut bread). At some point the hard core homo realizes the non-stop party is over, at least for them. Love becomes elusive, they often resign themselves. A small group of other homos become their core support. I realized this watching a group of friends of Prof. Tim. Gaggle of homos, they hang out with each other exclusively, entire social and emotional network. In over 2 years, I’ve yet to see one on a date or dating someone. They arrange discrete hook-ups. The group is self protecting, they don’t want any new members and also self defending, quickly shooing off any potential suitors of their clan. But I see such emptiness in their eyes. Perhaps they’re happy, resigned to this fate, it’s not my concern either way.
Coming into this scene your choices are to adopt the rules of the organization OR make your own rules. It would seem the current rule set has you in the future as the 40ish token queer at a straight party wearing a purple scarf talking about your recent trip to Fort Lauderdale. It took me a while, but I decided to make my own rules. Fuck the fags. Here’s how Uncle Chris plays, handing them a copy of my rulebook. If for them the party isn’t yet over, they have no clue what I’m talking about. But for those enlightened few, a light goes on.
Strive to be different.