Friday B.S.: A Little Gay Never Hurt Nobody • Posted 06/13/08

My friend and I went out for drinks last night just as the Red Sox fans were streaming out of Fenway Park after a victory over Baltimore. With Commonwealth Ave at a stand still and my car trapped in the Warren Towers parking lot, the obvious solution was to find a bar, down a pitcher of Summer Ale and talk about men. Okay, so the Celtics game was on the TV screens but it was still the first quarter and the game was looking miserable (who knew?) Out of our conversation about men came this revelation about my dating life: I would probably get more dates if I was more obvious about...well you know, being gay.

Here are the relevant facts:
I'm in my thirties.
I'm single.
I (apparently) don't give off strong gay vibes.

Each of these on their own is whole separate topic, but combined they make for a potent dynamic. I'm old enough to disdain hook-ups. My theory about sex on the first date is well-documented, though gay culture celebrates screwing around so no one would necessarily blame me for it. I'm single, but most of my friends are not. So while I'm still looking for a date, they are busy setting up their model lives of life insurance, college funds and mortgages. But the kicker of it may be, if the theory holds true, that neither of those thing is as detrimental to my dating life as not being gay enough.

First off, I personally don't believe that "being gay" means playing into the stereotype of the Queer Eye fashion guru Carson Kressley, our epitome of the effervescent fag. Waving your rainbow flag in the parade works for some people, but it's just not my personality. I still believe that sexuality is really private business, no matter how politicized the issue has become. It's only relevant to the people I choose to share it with (notwithstanding publishing this article in a public forum, the irony of which is not lost on this writer.)

I've never been a rub it in your face kind of guy. Is it possible that I can be perfectly comfortable with my sexuality and still not want to walk in the pride parade, wear rainbow bangles or enjoy Sex and the City? The image of gay pride tends to be a parade of old men in leather riding motorcycles, police officers with the butts cut out of their uniforms, and lesbians in mullets and flannel dragging their breasts behind them. But isn't the real purpose of pride week to celebrate those very things that make us different? Instead of making our differences a negative, we twist it around and say to each other, "We're all a little weird, but so what?"

But that brings me back to the original point because what happens to make me different is that I don't act particularly gay but I still date men. I have zero fashion sense and few bouts of flamboyance, though I can claim to be fan of musical theater (blame my mother, if you must, for taking me to see Michael Crawford during his last run of Phantom of the Opera in a sweater that looked like a fruit basket threw up on me) and I fill lulls in the conversation with talk about the Red Sox and the Patriots.

I know that as a society (or at least, in the civilized parts of our country) the stereotypes are breaking down a bit, so that we don't automatically silo people's sexuality by their behavior. That is a good thing. But the fact is, being "straight-acting" only complicates dating unless everyone knows you're gay. Otherwise, the girls flirt with you and call you "stud" and the gay guys don't even acknowledge that you are alive. The one place where I am unequivocally gay is online dating sites. But online dating plays so heavily into gay stereotypes (which is never more clear than in reading the custom ads delivered to me by Facebook "Weight Loss for Gay Men!" "Meet Hot Gay Men" and "Local gay roommates!" with a picture of two guys who are clearly sleeping together) that it's virtually impossible for me to negotiate a genuine date.

Since I am not likely to discover an effeminacy that has been missing from my personality (at least, that I know of,) I'm not really sure what the answer is. Maybe I should start to wear buttons decorated in rainbow flags or one that says "Sorry girls, I'm gay." I suppose a pride bracelet (not that I'm a bracelet kind of guy) would do it. If it's not on my clothing, then maybe it's where I hang out? I won't be at the pride festival this weekend (I made other plans) and I don't really find myself at gay bars that often. Maybe I should start a gay-themed book club? Is there gay bowling night? All of these occasions seem reasonable in theory, but if the events are merely a pretext for hook-ups, I can just pass on them right now. But then if it's not where I hang out, then it must be who I hang out with! But wait...clearly that's my problem to begin with.

You know, as improbable as it seemed at the time, the Celtics eventually won the game. The Sox crowd had cleared out of Boston and my friend and I made our way to the car, still undecided how best to find me a man. It occurred to me then that the real riddle isn't whether I need to act more gay in order to meet gay men. It is really a matter of deciding whether I am in fact facing an intractable problem, or if it has become one because that is what I made it.