Gay-Straight or Straight-Gay

OMG…

One of my best friends made me laugh and cry a little yesterday.

We were walking into a local hardware store in order to pick up a small wine rack. 

Hummmmmm... Before I get to the meat of this story…

Maybe I should explain a few things…

1.    I’m pretty…LOL

2.    I get hit on by pretty boys all the time.  In fact I got called a “STUSH” by a guy a few weeks ago. Don’t know what that is…Look it up in http://gaylife.about.com/od/GayWordsS/Gay-Words-And-Terms

3.    I like tight-ish shirts and my “girl-friends” think they look gay.

So back to my fabulous story…LOL

We (my “girl-friend”) and I were going to have breakfast. I slept in…(this never happens), and I got to her place an hour late.

She was a bit perturbed…LOL

So to make it up to her we decided we would have a picnic brunch.

We went to the local deli and got:

·      A great Pâté

·      Some amazing salami

·      Some delicious cheese

·      A bunch of grapes

·      A perfectly baked baguette

·      Mango Tea

·      And two small French patisserie

We then thought about the parks in the area and realized that getting stuck by a used heroine needle wouldn't be fun...so we decided to go up to her buildings 42^nd floor common terrace…

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm……..Delicious picnic brunch….

We then played pool…She kicked my ass (don’t tell anyone)…

After being humiliated I asked her if she wanted to go shopping…Duh…stupid question…LOL

So we ended up at one of those fashion clearance boutiques. And I picked out a few shirts. My friend quickly commented…Don’t you already have a few of those gay “look” shirts?…ugh…Yea!

Anyway…

I bought one gay “look” casual shirt, one striped tee and a beautiful blue dress shirt.

We then went into the hardware store. (My story has come full circle)…

Soooooo…..

As we walk through the door. My amazing friend asks me…”…So…when I introduce you to others, should I introduce you as my; gay straight friend or my straight gay friend…”

This is my friend that knows I’m very…Very…VERY…Heterosexual.

What if other people are questioning my sexuality?

What if other women think I’m gay…

OMG!!!

WTF!!!

Holy Shit!!!

I’m going to have to start wearing sandwich board advertising my masculinity or at a tool belt or something…

Ah-hem...excuse me sir...

Where do you keep your designer tool belts??? LOL

Disparity in Nomenclature…

So…

Here’s my problem.

A girl can have girl-friends, and boy-friends.

A girl can have pals, buddy’s chum’s friends, and lovers…

As a man in his early forty’s I have an issue with some of the conventional names men use for their close associates.

When I have a female friend what should I call her? There are times when I want to relate to another person the gender of my friend because it is relevant to the situation. Do I call her a “Girl-Friend”.

Do I have to make those ridiculous quotation marks up in the air with my fingers for the intent to be understood?

Try using the term girl-friend when talking to a woman you’re interested in…It isn’t going to help the cause…

So what other term can I use?

Sometimes I want a woman to talk to and get her perspective and advice. Do I call her my confidant?

Sometimes I want a female version of myself just to hang out with. Do I call her a crony?

Some times I just like having a beautiful woman on my arm. Do I call her an accessory?

I have the same sort of issue with my male friends…

I don’t like the term bud, or pal or bro…I absolutely refuse to use the word dude.

And you can imagine the looks I get when I use “Boy-Friend”…

So what’s left…???

ARGH!

No one cares that I have a headache, but I'm totally going to tell you about it anyway.

So here I am at my office. For those of you that don’t know… I’m an Architect, but I specialize in construction management. So my office in most cases is one of my many construction sites.

Unless you’ve been living in the vacuum of space you should be able to appreciate my situation.  Beyond the physical laws of time, space and the speed of light I know of only one true universal constant in the universe…Construction sites are noisy.

I'm walking around reviewing the site progress; all the while:

My Head Hurts…

My Eyes Hurt…

My Neck & Shoulders Hurt…

I take some extra strength Excedrin… (Repeat as often as the instructions will allow…)

30 minutes later…

My Head Hurts…

My Eyes Hurt…

My Neck & Shoulders Hurt…

I take some extra strength Excedrin… (Repeat as often as the instructions will allow…)

60 minutes later…

I vomit cuz I haven’t eaten anything except the stupid Excedrin.

Have you ever thrown up in a portable toilet? 

OMG…I never... ever want to do that again!

My headache is worse and I’m scarred for life after my experience in the toilet.

I’m going home!

Date Postmortem

Last night I went out on a date…

WooHoo

It was the first date I had been on since having been dumped. You know who you are… (I love ya!)

Anyway…

I have always been proud of the fact that I really don’t have a “type” of woman that I find attractive. However there are several women I think are beautiful and I think if stitched together they could approach my ideal physical woman.

 

Those women are (in no particular order):

Famke Janssen

Monica Bellucci

Hilary Swank

Salma Hayek

Michelle Yeoh

 

Now…I may not have a “Type” But there are some overwhelming traits I find important.  But if I were to distill all of the traits into a single word, that word would be…Elegant.

What that means to me is that a woman would dress appropriately for the occasion; speak at a level appropriate to the audience, walk and moves in a fashion that exudes strength, femininity and some culture. That isn’t too much to ask is it ??

 

So back to my date…

The initial meeting and interview occurred online. You know one of those grocery store type of dating sites where you get to scroll through thousands of profiles. All the while realizing that “Average” body type is very subjective, and words like “Honest” should have asterisks beside them with exclusions and caveats…

 

My first impression (on-line) was that she was pretty…

Thick dark Hair, good complexion, average body, full lips…etc…

After reading her profile I introduced myself and we began an online conversation.

She disclosed that she was Irish, and had a conventional Irish catholic upbringing…

·      Irish-Catholic schools… nuns whom beat the piss outa you.

·      A father who drank and beat the piss outa you.

·      Siblings that were idiots and beat the piss outa you.

 

We quickly moved to talking on the telephone…We spoke twice, and on both occasions she seemed articulate. I have to admit that whilst talking on the phone my spidey sense began to tingle a little bit. She was Irish…and hadn’t been in Canada all that long…and she had no trace of an accent…hummmmmm….

 

I decided to put aside foolish thoughts of accents and decided I would ask her out for coffee. Which is code for: I’m interested, but an in person evaluation and interview is required.

 

On the day of our meeting slash interview…due to circumstances which I still don’t fully understand she changed a 1530hrs coffee meeting to a 1930hrs drink. Tingle went my spidey sense…

 

She then texted me to say she was getting dressed…hummmm… spidey sense…

 

I got to our mutually agreed meeting locale a few minutes early, and began to wait…I got a text from her ten minutes after our agreed time to say that she would be 10 minutes longer…argh… Tingle… Tingle…

 

Anyway…thirty minutes later an overweight over dressed overdone…person whom barely resembled the profile pictures arrived. 

First thought…

Run for the hills…

Second thought…

If she hasn’t seen you… Run for the hills…

Third thought…

Next time listen to my fucking spidey sense…

Fourth thought…

Is that the new BMW X6 M-Class coming down the street behind Godzilla….

Nice…

Too bad she’s blocking my view of that nice car…

Forget the shiny new car…It’s not hers…RUN…

 

The split second of indecision and admiring that nice new shiny car were my downfall…She saw me…

OK…Breath…

I figured I would try to make the best of it…

 

She came over and gave me a huge hug and kiss on the cheek…

And then proceeded to ask where I was going to take her out for dinner. WTF!!!

We had gone from afternoon coffee to dinner…Wow…I’m a sucker!

 

In order to simplify things, I decided to take her to a restaurant that I have frequented often. We sat on the patio and it was then that I noticed all the inquisitive stares…

Now…

I’m used to having people stare at me when I’m with a woman. But it’s usually because people are suspicious and/or wondering why is SHE with HIM. The apologetic, pity filled eyes were a validation that this time the tables were most definitely turned. Argh…where is my cloak of invisibility…

 

I ordered a coffee and an off menu tasting platter to share…

She ordered a pitcher of sangria…

I explained to her that I don’t drink and wouldn’t be able to help her with the pitcher. She countered with…Oh…did you want some? OMG…I’m an idiot!

 

Our drinks arrived quickly which was appreciated, the silence between us was quickly becoming overwhelming… I found that I was distracting myself by focusing my thoughts and trying to make my companions head explode. For a second there I thought that I had been successful, her eyes widened and her overly painted lips curled into a grimace that only Dr. Seuss could have imagined…but regrettably she was just excited to see a dog walking down the street.

 

When the food arrived she let out a high pitch squeak of excitement…The waitress was quite specific about clearing a space between us in order to facilitate the sharing of the enticing amuse-bouche. My cohort wasn’t as convinced that sharing was the best plan of action. She pulled the platter decisively towards her and proceeded to coral all the items she wanted towards the corner of the plate furthest from me…WTF…did that just happen…

 

So, after consuming a single prawn, a fried oyster and listening to the sounds of her eating, which were akin to a wood-chipper. I decided I would feign a missed call on my phone…and quickly excuse myself.

Please god…if this works I’ll go to mass, or at very least consider walking into a church…

 

Fortunately she was occupied with trying to get the last strawberry at the bottom of her glass after having drunk ALL the sangria. I quickly made my excuses, paid the bill and skipped away into the evening…

 

Soooo…

What did I learn from this…

1.    When a woman says she’s average size…She’s not comparing herself to other woman. She is saying she’s HER average size.

2.    Words like honesty and integrity are not fixed or static constants of the universe. They are like the limbs of a tree. Seemingly rigid, but in reality they shift and sway at the whim of the slightest breeze.

3.    Listen to my spidey sense.

4.    Plan a better escape strategy…Cuz not everyone will get drunk on the first date…

The Plight of Dressing a "Full Size" human...

OK…so here’s my problem.

I’m a full size human. I have a 48” chest, 17” arms, a size 34/35 waist and I’m not that tall 5’-10” (1778 mm). A true Mesomorph except for being short and stocky.

So how does a guy my size dress…

For the longest time (most of my adult life 20+ years) I’ve hidden my size away with baggy clothes. On occasion I would get brave enough to dawn tight-ish tee’s and slender-ish pants…

But here’s the kicker…I’m not a kid. And I have a hard time with some of the youth driven fashion trends.

So what’s a guy supposed to do?

I’ll tell you what…

Ask a woman to go shopping with you.

It will be inspiring…

But here are some pointers:

·      Be patient. Women are all about developing a look. It’s morphic and will grow and evolve as you try things on.

·      Give yourself time. Women will go back and fourth to the same stores because…well because they insist on DRFT (Doing It Right The First Time). I ‘ll get back to this cuz there is an escape clause in here for woman which I think is humorous.

·      Give yourself more time. Don’t forget to give yourself time for food. But don’t eat too much cuz it will just slow you down.

·      Have lots of change. Parking Meters (do I need to say more)

·      Keep an open mind. If this is someone you trust. And I’m sure it is…Go with it. Have fun with it… The last thing she is going to want to do is dress you like a clown and then hang out with you.

·      Listen…She will inadvertently dole out information. Things “women” are looking for. This is VERY important… It’s like finding the Rosetta stone.

·      Make sure your hygiene is up to par… If you’re lucky your friend will get in the change room with you or at least stand there whilst your dressing yourself…mmmmmmm sexy…LOL

Now back to the DRFT escape clause…

Women will always keep their receipts and never take off the tags until they are 100% satisfied. That means trying things on at different times of the day to account for lighting and body mass changes, and in front of as many mirrors or reflective surfaces as possible…The escape clause goes something like this... "...I had to return it cuz it didn't look right at twilight..." 

Here is the lesson...Keep your receipt and return it if you're not happy. It's ok to return stuff. That's a hard pill to swallow if you're a guy...I know...

But believe me...It's OK...

 

So if nothing else…

Take away this message…

Twice a year, find a female friend and take her shopping.

You’ll love it and look better for it...and she’ll brag to all her friends how she dresses you…

It’s a win/win…

 

 

 

 

 

WTF is Gangster Chic?

OK…

I’m a complicated person…

Fairly intelligent and urbane (no not urban you idiots…Urbane, you know charismatic and worldly)…anyway…where was I…

Oh yes…

I’m a great guy.

I’m also fairly enlightened and emotionally centered. That’s not to say I’m mature or not prone to outbursts…But relative to most others, I think I’m ahead of the curve…

So why am I a relationship pariah?

I’m pretty fit for a man my age. I’m also pretty good looking for a man my age (albeit I’m not handsome in a traditional way, and I don’t really prescribe to any one particular look. One person recently said I evoke Gangster Chic…I thought it was funny…)

I’ve been told that I have nice eyes, I have great hair, I have good hygiene, I can hold a conversation with almost anyone about most things… (Although I always get fission and fusion mixed up…) I love to cook and am athletic enough that I can play most sports.

I’m inquisitive and like to know more than others, because…well…Knowledge is power.  I like to write, and paint but sadly don’t do either well enough to make it a career. I swear too much…and have a penchant for boobies…

When I have it…I’m generous with my money and time. I love to touch and hold hands. I’m creative, artistic and have a wicked sense of humor.

I’m fairly well read, although I’ve never read the Bible, Koran or New York Times from front to back. I’m slightly taller than average. I’m Italian and very comfortable with my sexuality. I’m confident, but still vulnerable and shy at times.

I’m old fashioned, and believe in serendipity. I like to plan and fix things (although I cant remember the last time I got my hands dirty). I like my women to be feminine, and yet… (entitled princesses annoy the shit outa me). I appreciate the differences between male and female bodies. And drink too much coffee…

I drive a nice car and tend to wear labels. I refuse to make those things define me.  And yet I’m always cognizant of people’s perception of me. I like to browse through thrift stores, but rarely buy anything. I’m adventurous with food and will try anything once.

I have great kids, which can only make me look good by association. I’m honest, reliable, romantic, a good kisser and I’ve been told that I’m a pretty good lover.

I need someone to help me out here…

Celluloid Dream(s)

One dark knight…

A hero…

A maiden…

A villain, Maybe Satan…

A clash of titans…

A warrior monk, a faint hearted heavenly hit man…

A chorus of saints…

Angel tears, and demon sneers…

The story unfolds within my minds eye…

A tale of sorrow. Two passing ships…

What does it look like when angles cry?

Mind control…

Guttural groans, snapping bones…

Deathly touch…

Lighting projected from fingertips, laser beams…

The story ends, with no lesson, no message or warning…

I don’t know why…

It just does.