Gayness Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

Gayness Is In The Eye Of The Beholder

I don’t know whether it’s my overdeveloped single cynicism or simply that the metrosexual trend for guys has not made its way out yet, but I feel like every man I date is secretly homosexual.

Maybe I’m being dramatic but I do feel like lately I’ve been getting the gay end of the stick, so to speak.

This all came together for me last week when I went on a first date with a guy named Danny – the second guy I matched at speed dating. Danny is a dancer, an ensemble cast member of a very popular Broadway show, with a sexy, muscular frame that would make Will Smith in "I Am Legend" (yum) look flabby. And he models a little too. This alone piqued my gaydar but I ignored it, wishing and hoping.

The problem here is I like my men mannish. Rough around the edges; scars, stubble, tattoos…that’s all fodder for my sexual appetite. Pretty boys usually make me hurl. I like ‘em looking like they just got into a bar fight (but with the internal patience and peace of Gandhi). Hmm, not picky at all. Wonder why I’m still single.

Anyway, Danny is soft-spoken, artsy, and well…he seems to veer towards many stereotypes that would make anyone wonder why he was out trying to romance me, very clearly a woman. Maybe it’s my broad shoulders, I speculated. He was very interested in me, and asked me out on a second date while walking me to the subway. I told him I’d get back to him when I looked at my schedule for the week, since I needed time to think over the possibility of another evening of great conversation and even greater bewilderment.

I thought I was being silly until I voiced my concerns to my roommates and my best friend Angie, who all were very amused after checking out his facebook page. His modeling pictures were on there, and let’s just say that if gay had a picture next to it in the dictionary, one of these could be it.

“I’m glad my love life is amusing to you.” I said to Angie, cranky at this point.

“Honey, this isn’t your love life, it’s a man wearing eyeliner. He’s got eyeliner on, Rajul.” She said between guffaws.

“Ugh. I don’t understand. I asked him if he was bisexual and he said no, but that he gets that a lot.” I slumped.

Just to clarify: gay, straight, bi, fly – it’s all good to me in the game of life. I have no qualms about anyone’s sexual orientation or life choices. With all the hate in the world, I’m happy if anyone loves anyone else. However, I do not want to date a gay man. Not even a gayish straight man.

And it’s not just Danny. The other guy I’m kind of diggin’ has this weird boy band fascination going on, he’s always dressed for a GQ cover, and his eyebrows look like they’ve been groomed by the same person who does Nicole Kidman’s.

Where are all the beer-guzzling, sports-playing, spitting, burping, make-up free men?

Yes, I know I sound like a primitive, obnoxiously traditional fool right now but I don’t want a 50’s chauvinist, just a dude who is an appropriate amount in touch with his feminine side. And prefers female genitalia to male.

Just when I thought the extreme sport of dating couldn’t get any more complicated…