"Things can't get much weirder,
this can't get much worse,
don't know why you wouldn't kiss me
-- but it's a good thing I asked you first."
Sing it, sister! Well, I tried to organize my thoughts for this column beforehand, but my brain has just scattered everywhere, so I'm gonna plow ahead and just see what happens. My ranting subject of choice this month:
Of course, I don't really hate straight men. Fact is, I love them. But I really HATE loving them. They can be so...frustrating, you know?
For example: there's this guy that I really like - name of Chris. He's very sweet, pretty good-looking, and he seems to like me a lot. We've hung out several times, and I finally asked him out on a date. I didn't really know what his sexual orientation was, and I hadn't asked.
I guess I should explain my dating strategy here (tangent one!): I don't care if a guy self-identifies as straight, gay, bisexual, whatever - because I don't think it's relevant. I don't deal with classes of people, I deal with individuals. If I like someone, all I need to know is whether or not they are interested in me. If so, that's great! If they're not interested, then it doesn't matter if they turn me down because I'm male, or if it's just because they think I'm a jerk.
So, point being: I asked him out. And his reaction was very cute. It was "Wow, I've never been hit on by a guy before. I don't know what to say. Thanks, Bill, this is a new experience." So we talked for a while, I explained that it didn't matter to me if he was usually not interested in guys as long as he liked me, and he ultimately said "Can I think about it for a while?" Of course I said yes, with the caveat that he'd better actually think about it and not just be putting me off. Ultimately, he came back to me and said that he was sorry, but he was just too lame to date me. The whole situation kind of scared him -- he wasn't used to it. I think I accepted with pretty good grace, but really, what the FUCK?! That's about the nicest refusal I could possible get, but it still annoys me. Not that he won't date me so much - though I am disappointed - but because he's too scared to go through with it. THAT'S what I hate about straight men: they're too damn scared to question their own sexuality. I figure, I'm a good date. I'd treat him right. But my male-ness is just too much for him to fathom. Aargh.
Another thing that annoys me about straight guys: they don't know how to say "No" effectively. I've been to parties and flirted with straight guys who started to feel intensely uncomfortable. But did they say "Bill, thanks, but I'm not interested" or even "Stop that"? NO! Christ, if someone puts his hand on my knee and I don't like it, I tell him to cut it out. I'd rather have a flat refusal than be led on or make anybody feel harassed.
But the absolute worst thing that happens, is when you get somewhere with a straight guy, and then he won't admit it. Here's another example (hey, it's Story Time with Uncle Bill):
I went to a party a couple of months ago -- and I'd decided to dress up a little. Let me tell you, I was stylin'. I had a long black wool cape, a Nine Inch Nails T-shirt with a black silk shirt over it, a floor-length black velvet skirt(!), and Converse Chuck Taylor's (which really made the outfit). My friend Jessica introduced me to her friend from way the hell up in Maryland. He was perfect! Blonde hair, green eyes, sweet smile, gorgeous, muscles...etc. And straight. So I figured I'd be good and keep my distance.
Well, he came up and started talking to me in the kitchen. We hit it off amazingly well -- we talked for about two hours on every subject available. He tried on my cape and looked very cute in it. we sat together and listened to my friends play guitar. We got fairly drunken. Later, he wandered onto the front porch and I followed him. It was fairly cold outside, so (gentleman that I am) I sat down next to him and put my cape around the both of us. Then he leaned over and kissed me. OH MY GOD. He was the best kisser EVER. We were out there for about 20 minutes (and I later discovered that other friends were watching us and gossiping through the peephole). Eventually I said something like "Wow, you're wonderful. Can I see you again? Can I have your address? something?" He said I could get his e-mail from Jessica, and then he had to go home. I danced on clouds until I got to Jessica's the next afternoon. First, he had denied that he knew me -- he said "Who's Bill? I was pretty drunk last night -- I don't remember anything that happened."
Naturally, I didn't believe this. I sent him an e-mail subtly hinting that I liked him, that we had kissed, and that I would really like to see him again. He sent a reply (not to me!) to Jessica, saying that he knew what had happened, but he didn't want to discuss it or ever hear from me again. Geez! That made me pretty upset. I mean, what is that? Straight-boy fear is what it is. I hate it that straight guys think that they can use you and just pretend that nothing has ever happened, or that it "doesn't mean anything" because you're not a girl. Pisses me off. Well, no more! I am never dating a closet-case again, and if I chase a straight guy, he'd damn well better admit what's going on. I don't mind being the one exception to his heterosexuality, or even-- well, no. I refuse to be "an experiment" either. I want something real from a guy.
Woah, that was interesting. I got pretty angry there. I guess it's residual rage from what happened a few months ago. Sorry 'bout that.
Oh, and there's one other reason that I don't like straight men: They're lousy in bed. Really. They almost never reciprocate, you know? And if they're used to sleeping with girls, then their technique is all wrong. "Umm, excuse me, but what are you doing? I don't have an opening down there..."
Sorry if that was overly vulgar? I guess it's time for me to go -- it's late. Thank you for reading this far, and I would really love to hear a response from somebody - just so I know that somebody's reading, whether they're sympathetic or not. My e-mail address is "firstname.lastname@example.org"
Oh, and I've got another poem in the Arts & entertainment section. It's about what happens the next day, after sleeping with a straight guy. Check it out. Thanks.