Gay men fascinate me. I specify gay men and not lesbians, because, I, myself, am a gay man, and they say "write what you know!" I don't know who came up with that, but thank goodness we're not all out there writing about the Native American experience, or what it's like to live as an amputee! But, I digress.
In much the same way that Discovery Channel can instantly pull my attention from anything I am doing (restrooms be damned!), I find myself endlessly drawn into this dance with gay culture. The age-old "why am I alone?" takes on new dimensions when you're gay. Unlike our heterosexual counterparts, we don't have the luxury of being able to randomly bump into our soul mates at the office (unless you work for Apple) or on eHarmony.com (look it up!) (Am I getting TOO parenthetical?) It irks me to no end that I can't seem to meet Mr. Right Around the Corner, well...around the corner. I am bored with the gay bars and the endless searches on Grindr and Scruff, hoping that something, somewhere will change. The definition of insanity is repeating the same thing over and over, expecting different results. Well, I can assure you I am fucking bat-shit certifiable.
When I was in my early 20s, I recall feeling this sense of wonder and excitement at the prospects of what the future held. I might marry rich, or I might die young and beautiful like James Dean. I could be a starving artist who travels Europe with my handsome French beau, or I might end up a world-class director winning an Academy Award. Now, in my mid-30s, I am lucky to recall last week, let alone my early youthful follies. What I do recall of my younger self is that he was filled with hope, and he wanted love. Oh, l'amour.
But something happened over the last decade that has shifted the culture I once knew so well. What the hell happened to you, Gay Culture? Did you go the way of the dinosaur once you became status quo? Thanks, Will & Grace! You fucked it up again with your witty dialogue and mainstreaming! I, for one, sort of miss the days when you had to wonder if someone was gay or not. It was like a sexualized Where's Waldo. Is he here? Nope! There he is! In the East Village back room of The Cock! (Again, look it up!) Or maybe it's I who has changed. Or not changed, along with the times. I'm like that movie The Village. Unchanged by time, but I still blow. That's it! Gay culture died around the same time that M. Night Shyamalan's career did! There has to be a correlation that would hold up in a court of law.
So, I have decided, henceforth, that I am going to enter into a relationship with myself. Since nobody else seems to be stepping up to the plate to fill these big shoes (Size 12), then I guess I will just have to get in there and do it. After all, don't send a boy to do a Man's job.
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