When Your Chest Speaks Volumes

Gay Pride was this weekend. Some people, though, take pride so far as to border on some kind of god syndrome.

I saw -- on at least two different people -- a t-shirt which really annoyed me for some reason. Now, I don't want to come across as if I'm one of those politically correct humorless dolts who think everything is offensive, but this one just irked me. The t-shirt read, in Courier type approximately 25 point:

"Sorry. I don't do girls."

Wha? "Sorry"? For some bizarre reason I got annoyed by this big time. What, you think you're so hot that everyone is clamoring for a piece of you? Are girls (especially at Gay Pride, fer cryinoutloud) swooning at you, going, "Dammit, I want him sooo bad, and his t-shirt proclaims loud and clear that I can't have him!"

News flash: You're not as hot as you think. And not everyone wants to get into your pants.

***

The other t-shirt that bugged me (and thankfully I only saw it on one person): "GAM4GWM." Translation, for those of you unschooled in this particular code: "Gay Asian Male, For Gay White Male."

I'm fine with indulging the fact that people have "a type" that they find "attractive." But limiting yourself by an entire racial category is a bit much.

I'm the kind of person who believes that, given the right set of qualities (physical and non-physical), all kinds of people can be very attractive. Intelligence can shoot a guy's sexiness factor up by a factor of 10, as can a great sense of humor or a kind heart. Likewise, if a guy is hot and he knows it, nine times out of ten I find him no longer as attractive as I may have found him before he opened his mouth.

So what's with gay Asian men who apparently count themselves as among the not-attractive-enough-to-date set? It's bad enough that Asian men get a stereotypical bad rep (everything from the physical to the emotional, Asian men get picked on), but if even my Asian brothers can't look at each other as attractive enough, that's just sad.

Quick questions to ponder on this front:

(1) If you, an Asian man, can't find me, a fellow Asian man, attractive enough to date, why would you ever believe that anyone else would want to date you? If you're willing to completely write off your own race in one fell swoop, why shouldn't the white guys you covet do the same?

(2) Have you considered the degree of self-loathing it takes to think, and then to announce, that you don't find people with genetic backgrounds similar to yours attractive?

***

On Saturday night my friend Amy and I went to Phase One, a lesbian bar on the Hill. She's gay and hadn't ever been, so we decided to go. Personally, I like the place. It's got a low-attitude going on, and people just seem to have a good time. Of course, I never picked up on any of the lesbian subplots unfurling before my very eyes because, well, I was too focused on the two or three guys total in the room.

One guy in particular, I found out was named Rick. I recall I thought he was pretty attractive when he walked in with two male friends. I didn't think much of it at the time, because there were other gay men in the bar too, so whatever.

At some point Amy and I find ourselves standing near them just holding our beers and watching the crowd. I excuse myself to use the facilities and when I returned, I was surprised to find Amy chatting it up with these boys, discussing the butch/femme dynamic which seemed to have dominated the dance floor, and talking about which chicks in the place were the hottest, etc.

As the conversation progressed, I started feeling slowly wigged out by the content. The following exchanges set my Spider-sense tingling:

Rick: (in response to Amy's lamenting about her difficulty in finding a date) That's crazy. You're gorgeous.
Amy: Well, thanks, but you know...
Rick: No, really. Gorgeous. Say, did you come here with anyone?

First hackles raised.

Amy: Nope, just my friend Dennis here.
Rick: So have you two ever....
Amy: Well, seeing as Dennis is gay, and I'm gay....
Rick: Yeah, but you know, you could swing both ways....
Me: Yeah, uh, I'm not terribly interested in the idea of swinging both ways.
Rick: (to Amy) When was the last time you kissed a guy?

Klaxons sounding.

Rick: So do you think there are going to be some bi chicks out there on the floor now who would be receptive if I were to try to dance up there with them?

Red Alert! Red Alert! Shields up!

At this point I literally abandoned Amy. I was at least slightly miffed at her for even allowing this conversation to continue, but really, my primary goal was to get the heck away from these three guys, who I had figured out were obviously straight, and had trekked down to the Phase from frigging Baltimore for the purpose of finding some lesbo action! I was skeeved to the extreme. It was Pride Weekend, after all! The Phase was supposed to be a safe haven year round, but especially at Pride, when you're supposed to be able to go out, be who you are, express yourself sexually, and not be the subject of heterosexist ogling. No, Mr. Straight Dude, she won't be turned on by you. You have a penis. You are not attractive to lesbians. She won't become straight if you (you big stud you) fuck her "the right way."

Maybe, Mr. Uber-Straight Dude, just maybe you haven't been fucked "the right way" by some big buff stud named Jeff, which would cause you to abandon your heterosexuality in a heartbeat.