Gay Porn Intro? No, that's my Life

Sometimes gay things just happen to me.

I don't bring it upon myself and I'm definitely not trying to brag here. I'm not asking for it. I swear.

Just as a girl can only view the world as a girl, and a black person can only view the world as a black person---a gay person can obviously only view the world as a gay person. Therefore they know what it's like to be closeted, they know how they acted, they know how they felt, so maybe they can also spot it in others? (I know I should say 'we' because I'm not trying to distinguish myself from them, but I don't think I've acquired this skill... yet) They must therefore be more keen at noticing even the slightest nuances that are just not quite 'straight'--even if they're not textbook gay stuff like high voices, weak wrists, or dildos hanging from your belt loops. 

Despite not fully mastering it, I do sometimes get a little "beep, beep, beep, homo, homo, homo, waaaaarning, waaaaarning, homo, homo, homo, beep, beep, beep" feeling (but note: not the kind where every gay person thinks every straight person is actually gay and wants to sleep with them, I hate that).

Example, when I first moved to DC I joined a pretty low budget gym. Despite its overall crappiness, it did have a pool, so even though it meant potentially increasing my odds of contracting an STD, I swam in it every Friday. Anyway, like many gay pornos/fantasies begin, picture me undressing in the locker room... well don't picture me doing it, but just set the stage in your mind. I'm sure all straight people have thought, "Being gay in a locker room must be the same as getting changed in a women's locker room, I would just stare at tits the whole time...does that mean they're staring at my dick the whole time..."

In reality, yeah... probably. But for me, honestly, nahh. I'm modest and shy and prefer to find my own little corner to undress in. I don't like being naked in front of strangers. Call me crazy (call me maybe).

Anyway, I remember this because it's classically me: I was bent over, pulling down my bathing suit. It was wet and sticking to my legs and of course it got all bunched up at my foot and I couldn't get it off. I was fumbling and losing my balance, my balls dangling, ass hole exposed, just straight up struggling. I finally free my stupid foot from the wet suit and as I stand up straight I see this broad mother fucker looking at me. He was definitely strong, but not necessarily "fit". He was also older, maybe in his 40's and hairy--full on beard. If he were wearing clothes  (yes, he was naked too) he might wear like motorcycle gear or something-- Harley Davidson type stuff.

Anyway, I'd been bent over for a good few seconds so I'm sure my face was beat red and filled with blood with my temples pulsating... I was thinking, "Uhh so how long has this dude been standing there? Shit." So he looks at me and says, "Man, I saw you swimming out there... you swim in college?"

The blood hopefully has rushed out of my face and I say, "Nah, never, I just like it."

You'd think that would be enough, right? Since we were both standing there naked? Since we're two dudes in a public locker room? Nope.

Not finished yet he says, "Well, there's no way you can get such an amazing chest by just swimming, right?"

I don't even know what he means at this point, "Uhh [fake laugh] nahh, I mean I lift most days, I just try to swim on Friday's is all... so mixing it up... I guess."

"You look good, guy, keep it up!"

"Th-...." 

And he was gone. Thank god. I have to admit, despite it being awkward, there is that element of excitement as it's happening, "Holy shit, I've seen pornos like this.... is he gonna get on his knees and just go to town? What should I do? We're gonna need some stage direction, better lighting... cameras? Any cameras?"

But I know what I'd do. I'd pretend I didn't like it, I would suppress all excitement and pretend to be offended because... well, I'm a coward and a bad gay person.

Anyway... that's just one story... this next one is even weirder. 

One late Sunday evening I was home alone in my apartment,  probably bored, probably depressed (I hate Sunday evenings more than anything in the world, more than Monday mornings even... at least on Mondays you're already looking your shit week in the face, ready to defeat it.  On Sundays it's just a few sad hours of tossing and turning between you and the shitty week ahead, nothing to do but anticipate it, can't fight it yet...just wait for it.)

So anyway, I decided to go down and have a cigarette outside my building. I'm not a huge smoker, just occasionally when I'm drinking or on long drives or terribly bored and depressed... like this Sunday for example. I remember it was chilly, but not freezing, maybe March, so aside from throwing on a fleece, I went down wearing my... gym clothes? pajamas? Basically those are one and the same to me so just keep in mind it wasn't 'cute looking'. I didn't go out trying to impress anyone. Now that I think about it, I was probably wearing socks with flip flops. 

I live on a fairly quiet street where cars can park so it was not at all alarming to see a guy sitting in the front seat of a red Honda civic just yards away from me. I really didn't think much of it as I casually inhaled my cigarette. That being said, I do seriously remember thinking as I stomped out my cigarette, "Hmm, it would be weird if that guy talked to me..." Maybe I could feel him watching me or I could sense his anxiety in the air, either way, I turned around to walk back inside. 

I take no more than two steps when I hear a faint voice coming from his car, "Hey... Hey, guy!"

I pull out my earbuds and turn around. I see he has his passenger side window rolled down and he is leaning over the center console to yell to me.

My first thought was that he had been watching me smoke and wanted a cigarette. In fact, I was 99.9% sure that's what he wanted. Upon walking over to him, I already started digging into my fleece pocket to grab him one. When I finally got to his car I immediately noticed how anxious he was. He was almost shaking. He was probably my age, maybe a little older, late twenties or something, latino guy. I can't recall if he had an accent or not, probably not. Either way I remember his words, "Hey man, I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry but... I hate to be so forward and all but..."

Ohhh. He is trying to sell me coke. People always think I do coke. I've never done coke in my life. I was thinking, "Jeez, what an insecure coke dealer, there's no need to apologize, just spit it out so I can tell you I'm not interested."

Then he finally finished his sentence....

"... I just moved to the area and well, do you want a blow job?"

This obviously not the dude.

Pffffffrrttt. I remember I responded with such grace, as if I get asked that all the time-- as if a random dude pulled over on the side of the road asking to blow me is a normal occurrence--I turned it down as if he had just offered me life insurance.

"Nahh, man. No thanks." I think I even tapped the car door twice before turning around to go back inside-- I would liken this "double tap" to platonically patting a bud on the shoulder-- as if he were a good friend who I just made plans to see again tomorrow.

"OK, so tomorrow at... I don't know, six? Is six good?"

"Yeah man!"

"Cool, see ya then!"

* Tap, tap*

Then I walked away.

I could hear his car speed away seconds after the "double tap".

I ridiculed myself the whole rest of the way up to my apartment. 

"Did you handle that appropriately?"

"Why did you act so calm?"

"Maybe you should have invited him up to just talk, maybe offer him some tea?"

"No, he would definitely interpret that as a 'yes'..."

"Plus, you don't even drink tea... especially on Sunday, last thing you need on Sunday is caffeine..."

"Oh right good point!"

"Duh."

"Right, but that dude who just asked to blow you..."

"Weird."

Ok, both those stories... WHAT DID I DO? Even if I were that gay guy from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy or... I don't know Ricky Martin?... or God, I can't think of famous gay people... Lance Bass? Uhh.... Neil Patrick Harris...? Danell Leyva? Ok, fine, he isn't gay but the Olympics have been on and I can dream.

Danell Leyva: I'm sure after the Olympics are over,
 no one will know who this is so
... a visual.

Anyway, my point is, even if I were flaunting my gay, who does that? It strikes me as odd, but at the same time, I respect that.... maybe not the Latino car dude because that is some shady shit to give anonymous blow jobs... but the pool dude? I mean he's putting himself out there, and you never know, you might hit the jack pot... and worst case scenario you experience a hate crime, maybe get punched in the jaw: a good life experience. Who knows, all I know is that I'm not even bold enough to ask for a spotter at the gym so hell if I'm gonna hit on a dude who I suspect might be a homo. 

More power to you... unless you're trying to perform anonymous sex acts, in that case, shame on you.