March 30, 2012: Homosexual Men: A Primer (Chapter One of Ten)

I’m a frustrated schoolteacher and a bit of a know-it-all who’s remained convinced for a long time that people just don’t understand pansies. Therefore, welcome to the first in a ten-part series, to be published here over the next several months, all about inverts and how we operate.

 Chapter One: We are Not Women

 It happened again the other day: I was chatting with a friend who was complaining about her ex, and after telling me how awful he was, she said, “Men are such pigs!”

“Yes,” I agreed. “Each and every one of us.”

“Oh, you know what I mean,” my pal said.

“Yes,” I replied. “You think because I’m gay, that somehow means I’m not also a man.”

This happens more often than you might imagine. The unconscious equation at work here is a simple one: Gay men want, as most heterosexual women do, to be with another guy. Ergo, we’re women.

After I wrote about how I call Todd my “husband,” a couple of people wrote to ask me if that means he calls me his wife. Hello! A wife is a woman, and Todd and I are men. It seems like it’d be a no-brainer, but it isn’t.

            Want more proof? I have been asked many times over the years to be a bridesmaid in a friend’s or relative’s wedding. I can’t be a bridesmaid. I’m a guy. Notice the moustache.

            (To be fair, some of my female friends have gotten it right. Lilia asked me, “You don’t want to come to my bridal shower, right? Because it’s an all-girl thing.” I thanked her for knowing that gay men are men, and for being brave enough to ask a potentially insulting question. When my friend Veronica—who had the whole gay thing sorted out back when we were in the seventh grade—wanted me to be in her wedding, she asked me to be a groomsman, not a bridesmaid. And rather than invite me to her all-girl bridal shower, she invited Todd and me to her husband-to-be’s bachelor party. Fortunately, he’s not the sort of person to drag his pals to a titty bar, and so we accepted the invitation. We played pool and drank beer and, surrounded by heterosexual guys, I felt like a giant, daisy-studded meringue. Still, it was nice to be included in the gender-appropriate celebration.)

Even though we sometimes eat brunch in fashionable restaurants surrounded by giant photographs of Olivia Newton John and Cher, gay men are still men.

            Of course, it doesn’t help that many gay men deliberately blur gender lines by referring to themselves as “girls” when speaking to straight friends, and by otherwise refusing to identify as entirely male. Note to homos: This is not empowering; it’s confusing to our straight people. If they remain confused about who we are, they’ll continue to vote for equally confused ass-hats like Rick Santorum.

            In short: Even if a gay man is standing before you wearing a denim skirt and enamel earrings, he’s still a man. I reminded my profoundly effeminate friend Kyle of this not long ago, and he sneered. “What am I supposed to do when someone addresses me as female?” he demanded. “Take off my pants and show them my penis?”

            I reminded him that this would only cause a different kind of trouble, because all gay men have gigantic ones. But that’s an all-about-homos lesson for another day.

 Thing I Hate Today: Hangovers.


6 Responses

  1. Thank you for writing this story. It annoys me to no end when my straight friends (women mostly) ask me “which one is the woman?” when they are are trying to figure out one of my friends relationships. My nephew, who lives with his lovely boyfriend David and 4 straight dudes in Tempe, constantly refers to his gay male friends and his female friends as bitches which I yell at him for doing so. Do I need to send him back to you for a tune up Robrt?

  2. Oh Robrt, how I adore your honesty about life.

  3. you go “girl”

  4. This reminds me of a friend of mine who said, “I’m homosexual, not gay.” I asked him what the difference was, and he said, “I’m sexually and romantically into men, but not Barbie dolls, camp or kitsch, and the fact that I don’t want to have sex with women doesn’t mean I want to be one.”

  5. Oh, great. So does this mean that when you get up to use the loo in the middle of the night, you pee all over the floor too? I thought this was just a straight guy thing because not one male in my household makes it all into the toilet. Nor do they clean up after themselves when said pee is discovered around the area just underneath the throne.

    I really like this blog — it makes me feel good when I read it. Now get busy and write another one or else I’ll have to develop a crack habit.

  6. Pantywaist.

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