So, I'm logging on to Facebook today, minding my own freakin' business, when my Feed visually assaults me with shirtless pics of a certain friend of mine at an unknown beach. Needless to say, in my current single state they were the last pics I ever wanted to see. No, actually, you can't possibly understand what these pics did to my goody bits, because you haven't seen them. So I will give you a taste of them (the pics, not my goodies. THOSE stay in the jar...honest). Now, out of respect for this friend I won't give his name or post the actual pic of him, but this following pic I stumbled upon comes pretty close to how his mostly-naked body looked on the beach:
No, my friend isn't Hugh Jackman. If he were, I'd be too busy out getting him drunk enough to not notice me copping a feel to keep up a blog. But it's very close to what his pecs look like.
But I'm not here to vent my sexual frustrations (ok, maybe partially). Believe it or not, I actually have a deeper point.
After being borderline turned-on by my friend's pics, I proceeded to message him via Facebook Chat, you know -- to see how he was doing, and jokingly suggest that he think of his gay facebook friends and their fragile hearts before he posts more pics of himself wet and shirtless. This friend, being the legitimately straight (DAMNIT) but awesome guy that he is, casually joked back. The conversation didn't last much longer past that.
Later that night, as I was pondering life's eternal purpose over a sink of dirty dishes, it suddenly hit me how much maturer I've gotten. You see, not too long ago, I would have seen that picture of my straight friend, joked flirtatiously with him, and read entirely too much into his joking back. This would have led to a few weeks of increased flirtation on my end, and complete neutrality on his...finally culminating in weeks worth of depression and exhaustion from reading into signals that weren't really there. Also, there would have been the risk of throwing away a casual, but still worthwhile friendship with someone.
But no, I flirted with a hot guy, accepted the fact that he was quite straight, and left it at that.
Go me. :)
You'd be surprised by how hard this is for some gay men. And it highlights some things I've learned:
1) Do not go after closeted men. Really, he may be hot and we may have something in common, but I've learned that if he's not out of the closet it's best to just stick to my own kind. Pursuing a closeted man may seem dangerous in a sexy way at first, but really it's just dramatic, and it says a lot about where the person is, in regards to a relationship. I, as a fabulous out-of-the-closet gay, am looking for the type of guy who is willing to give himself completely to the love I'm so willing to give, openly. Not gaudily. But still -- openly. I've learned enough from experience to know that I'm not going to get that from a guy a who can't be open, no matter how much we have in common outside of that pesky sexuality thing.
and...
2) I've learned to always be aware of the fact that straight men have egos. And, though they will deny it until they're blue in the balls, want to feel attractive. Some straight men are also so egotistical that, if they know they're in the presence of a homosexual male, they will go out of their way to confirm that this homo thinks they're attractive. You know, so they can say, "I'm so hot, even the fags want my dick. Bla bla bla! I'm a tool!" To accomplish this end, there are some straight men -- actual straight men -- who will flirt with gay men to the point that those gay men let their guard down and completely expose their interest, then leave them out in the lurch. It's cruel, really. Now, smart gay boys (like me) can, in some cases, actually manipulate this straight male ego to get more out of said straight man than he is initially willing to give...but at the end of the day, it really isn't worth it. STAY AWAY. Keep it casual, but that's it. Keep the heart off the sleave.
Tying these two points together, not going for the closeted guy automatically prevents me from going after the guy I think is closeted, but in reality is as straight as the WWE (...wait). In the case of my friend, part of the reason I was so able to take his joking at face value was the fact that I let myself take him at face value. He says he's straight, so he's straight. Period.
Two simple rules. When followed, they do a lot to keep me (and my pants) out of trouble, and actually help me collect some straight male friends.
