but i might be up for a dutch rudder

Friday 25 February, 2011

By far the most common question I am asked in my daily life is not “where are you from?” or “what do you do?”. Instead, it is “when did you decide you liked men?”

This is quite confusing for a number of reasons, though specifically because I don’t actually like men. Don’t get me wrong; men are cool. I just don’t generally have a great affinity for having my bits in their bits or vice versa.

It’s also quite confusing because I have little idea what I do to elicit these types of questions. I don’t generally check out guys (unless they’re really hot) and I also don’t have a habit of frequenting all male bars and insisting my name is Pedro (in the spirit of disclosure, I did have a very dirty moustache for a little while).

Though if I were to be completely honest, there are a few isolated incidents that I could possibly see being misunderstood. One of which involved a coworker viewing a preview message on my laptop when I received a reply from a friend. The conversation had gone like this.

Friend: Have you ever kissed a guy?
Pedro: Sure, but only on the cheek.
Friend: How did he feel against your lips? Stubbly?

Of course, the preview that flashed up on my screen was “How did he feel against your lips…”

You’d be forgiven for thinking that would make things awkward between us, but not so. The next day my coworker asked me if I want to go to a concert with him. I declined.

I have also been told my dress sense could be regarded as a little less than heterosexual. Calm down, people. It’s not as though my wardrobe consists of several pairs of leather chaps (though they would be nice and airy in the summer…). You wear a pink shirt once and suddenly you’re getting on top of a mardi gras float without any pants. And my love of skinny ties is not because they make better whipping instruments (studies have shown… er.. wait..).

Clothes aside (not literally), my interactions with actual gay men have not been wondrously clarifying either. Recently I was at a comedy gig where I made the mistake of sitting in the front row. After the comedian singled me out for a comment or two at the start of the show I casually asked if he would like my phone number. Little did I realise that the entire show was to be centred around how he is a raging homosexual and regularly deals with prejudice. Not only did the whole room think I was a confused gay man, they thought I was a confused gay jerk.

And then there is my quite serious mancrush on Hugh Jackman…

All that said, I don’t think I’m really cut out to be a man’s man. My house is in constant disarray, I have little patience for musical theatre, and I find copious amounts of hair kinda gross.

I’ve kinda forgotten where I was going with this post, as I think any attempt to pre-empt the topic in question has well and truly failed. Perhaps I need to wear a sign saying “No, I’m not gay, but I may reconsider if you dress as Wolverine…. in leather chaps…”