The Straight Dope

Ojk loyal readers, I suddenly feel it necessary to point something out to you. I am not gay. Seriously, I am not.

Generally I have nothing against people who are gay, they are in fact just people, and it matters little to me who they are sleeping with. I judge people based on their behaviour towards me and the people I care about, and the way they treat others.

Frankly, it works in favour that a few dudes find themselves removed from the possible pool of competition for women. This is a good thing for me, and I wish there were more gay men in the world.

My problem with the situation is that people, mostly women, seem to come to the conclusion that I am gay. This is not working for me at all.

I am not sure the exact reason I come across as gay, but it needs to be ended. It isn't so much that I generally care one way or the other if a person thinks one thing or another about me, unless it is detrimental to my goals. That is when the misconception happens to bother the daylights out of me.

Let me give you a few examples to illustrate my point.

First, there was a time when I found myself living in a beautiful, yet tiny town. There were 5 bars in this town. One was a dance club, another a country bar, another a nice little place right on the water, a strip club and then a pub.

One day, a roommate and I decided we needed a beer. Since we just wanted to grab a beer we decided that the strip club is out. Don't get me wrong, there was a time in my life when I liked going to strip clubs, when I had even frequented the strip club in this town, and was given the phone number of one of the girls. Seriously, I am pretty sure it was her actual number because it had her real name, and I hadn''t asked her for it. Anyway, the point is, going to a strip club is very expensive and usually involves some skank telling you how cute you are, how interesting you are, then grinding up against you for 20 bucks a song until you have to go home, two hundred bucks poorer, to jack off.

Neither of us can dance. Neither of us were interested in a romantic moonlit drink by the bay, and neither of us liked country music. Thus we ended up at the pub. Now, upstairs at this pub was a greta little lounge. They served high end scotch, Guinness and played alternative music. I do not mean Eddie Vedder, I mean that shit people play to seem sophisticated. Stuff with an acoustic guitar and a tortured poet singing that no one understands but everyone likes to think they are cool for listening to it. Hipster alternative. A great place for two classy gents out on the town to get themselves a quiet drink. One drink led to another, and before you knew it we were downstairs in the pub section cheering on Manchester United or something.

After the game was over I found myself at the bar, sans roommate who had met a lady. Unfortunately this lady didn't have an ugly friend for me to distract, so I was alone. I went and sat down. I started making conversation with the gentleman next to me out of boredom. A decision which, in hindsight, may not have been all that wise. Turns out the man was a 50 year old Russian man there with his 20 year old boyfriend, who was wearing the tightest, shiniest shirt I have ever seen.

Long story short, Russian started touching me, I started hitting on the waitress, she took pit on me and let me escape.

This situation, while uncomfortable was not that big of a deal. I just wish the guy would have gotten the message after I mentioned hgow nice the waitresses boobs were.

Nect example, half the women I know treat me like their gay friend. They take me shopping with them, dish on boys and ask for my opinion on their nails. I know this is my own fault, and I will get in to that later, but it is frustrating to me that they behave this way, mostly because I would like to have sex with some of them, but they think of me as their gay friend, and not so much as the raging testosterone factory of a love machine.

Next example, and last I promise, is that of a recent new arrival in my life. She is a cowworker of sorts and she invited me out to the movies last night. Now, I find her attractive, in a she's ridiculously hot and I am not sort of way. I have to try and respect her because she is my coworkerish. Thus I decided not to hit on her, cause when she turned me down it would be awkward. So we went to the movie, had some fun like time, despite the mediocrity of said flick.

Today she invited me over to her place for a few drinks and to meet some people.

Turns out some people actually meant her gay brother. It became painfully obvious to both her brother and I what was happening. It was essentially a double date. She had her boyfriend and her brother there. I had nothing but me.

It started off fine, until she began playing match maker. She was telling what a big shot her brother was down at the office, and started telling him how smart and sensitive I am.

I am pretty sure the brother figured out I was not gay because he gave me this weak apologetic smile.

I ran to the bathroom.

I then excused myself from the event and slowly made my way home. Of the course of this walk, as I was reflecting on my gayness, she began feverishly texting me. AT first she was mad that I was rude to her brother, and that if I didn't like him I should have been nicer. When I pointed out to her that he was not even close to my type she quickly became apologetic.

Apology not accepted Captain Neda.

Dammit I wish I could force choke!

Anyway, the point is, I was fine with the gay people in these scenarios. The drunk Russian was drunk and a little handsy, but he was just being a guy. The brother seemed sorry for the situation and didn't push it. I am also fine with people like my roommate who thought maybe I should have gotten the Russians number, or with one or two of the women who think I am gay. I am not fine with the women who I wish to wham bam thank you ma'am thinking I am gay.

I have been wondering exactly what it is about me that has them so confused.

I can assure you that prior to college, this was not a mistake made by anyone. Not a single person ever seemed to think the large angry man with the tattoos and military surplus clothing and flannel was gay. Not a single person confused my piercing stare o doom with the longing look of a would be lover.

No one ever misconstrued my talking to them at the bar with me wanting to take them home.

I lived with the same non related male for nearly 8 years and no one ever confused us for a couple. It might have had something to do with the fact that E might have shot them for saying so, or slept with their entire list of female relatives. I was mildly more sedate and would have just boned their mom while they watched.

Something happened to me on the journey of getting clean and finding purpose that leads people to believe I am gay.

I guess it is because my first move with women is to actually listen to them. I think this is a mistake on my part. I should start treating women like chattle, after all, isn't that what straight dudes do?

Ok, I admit I am a bit sensitive. I like to help people and I like to listen. I am good at these things. Somehow this makes me gay because the first move I make is not a cheesey come on.

I have become awkward with women, this is true. I think it is mostly because I actually don't know how to talk to women. I knew how to get girls, there is no doubt about that. I have no idea how to get women, so I just try the sensitive male thing. It works for me because it is not an act. The unfortunate part is that the rate of success is roughly similar to me walking up to women and saying I have a twelve inch tongue and can breathe out mmy ears. 19 out of twenty women will slap me. In my case, being friendly, sensitive to their needs and listening to them results in 19 out of twenty of them thinking I am gay.

Whether true or not, I am just not the crude line guy. I cannot be that guy no matter how hard I try. I am funny, sometimes, and I am smart, sometimes, and I am kind most of the time. It is who I am.

The problem is, women want to be swept off their feet, not treated like gold. When I find a woman I like, I want her to know it because I treat her like a diamond, precious and rare and worth every bit of my time and energy.

This is not a greta way to pick them up. Yes this is how they want to be treated long term, but on the first few dates, they want Mr. Toad's wild ride.

I cannot provide that without trust or comfort. This is why I am the gay friend. I am the gay friend because women want to be treated the way I treat them, just not in the bedroom.

What's that old line, a chef in the kitchen, a mother in the living room and a whore in the bedroom? Same is true of guys. Women seem to want us to club them over the head with our come ons, darg them back to our tents, ravish them, then in the morning we need to be sensitive to their needs and want.

Here's the thing, one person cannot be all of those things. I am not saying that good men, real men aren't good lovers, far from it. Don't believe me? Well then, believe the more famous fat man in an overcoat. He tells us that a sensitive man who cares about you and your needs will ensure your pleasure, cause well what the hell do you think he is about? If he cares about your needs in the living room, office, kitchen, guess what he is going to do in the bedroom?

Maybe the problem doesn't reside with me, but in a way it kind of does. In being the person I am, I can't shake the earth and move mountains until you let me. I can't take what is not mine, and I cannot force you in to the position I want you in. I used ot be able to do that with the girls. Oh it was so easy. They wanted it that way. Tey wanted me to be strong and powerful and callous. But I was taught that women didn't/

Maybe I am wrong, but I would so much rather be right. So, I guess I just have to wait for women to wake up to the possibilities and potential of a person who can please them everywhere. Until then, I guess I am gay.