What I Learned This Weekend

3 Apr

File under “Being a Newbie Homo.” Also, “Learning to Adapt to Being Gay in a Straight World.”

What I learned this weekend can be summed up in the text exchange I had with Hippie Rancher today, about my Saturday night out with two of my straight friends from high school:

HR: Did you meet lots of women?

Me: No, I did not. We stayed one place longer than we expected to hear a band B2 knows. So we didn’t make it to the girl bar.

Me: I got to be a stand0offish bitch to all the straight guys who persisted in hitting on me. On a positive note, I now realize why gay people don’t like to go to straight bars.

And, the story could end there and you’d maybe get the point, but when have I ever let a chance to tell a great story pass me by? Uh, never.

I mean… for serious. I had a wonderful, amazing weekend of chilling with fun people with (relatively) little drama, in Wichita. Friday night, hit up my first MMA fight at a venue featuring local fighters, for a  kids’ charity event.  Great group of people I met through a friend at school. Bought shots for a ring girl. Screamed and jumped up and down while guys pummeled each other. Left wanting to MMA fight. Did a little dancing. Made out with a girl on the dance floor. Left, got DIVINE street ‘dawgs from a vendor — complete with cucumbers, pickles, onions, jalapenos, and chili.  Total heartburn special. Totally worth it. And topped the night off with local greasy spoon Mexican cafe, Rene’s. Colorado burrito? Hell yes. Get one.

Here’s where it gets potentially messy. No one in the group knows I’m gay, except maybe the guy from school but we’ve never had “the” convo.  On the way to drop people off, one of the guys I danced with had me sit in his lap because we were seriously smooshed in this truck. Well, he decides to get out when they drop me off, and follow me to the house. I’m like, “Uhhh… mkay. Maybe he left his car here. Maybe he needs to pee and they’re waiting on him. Maybe he just really wants to have a great conversation.” Really? I know better than that!

But I feel like, since I’ve come out fully, that there should be some external change that other people can recognize the same way I feel a huge internal change from how my life was even three months ago.  And I am still coming to grips with having to have the “gay” conversation with almost every human being I get in to a decent conversation with. Or assumptions are made (like the one that was made this night) and then people get confused. And a little mad.

So, this guy and I sit at the dining room table, alone in B2’s house at 2 a.m. And we have an awesome conversation about spirituality and life after death, and… of all things… our mutual history with WWE/WWF wrestling.  Random, right? My kind of shit. I LOVE meeting people through completely chance encounters and having great conversation. But I digress…

A couple hours later, around 4:30 a.m., this guy says, “Well, it’s late and I’d better either leave or go to bed.”

To which I replied, “I can drive you home if you’d like.”

“You can if you want. I’m just saying that if I crash in a bed with you, there’s a small chance I’ll try to pull something on you,” he threw out there.

After a pause, I managed, “Would it help you not feel that way if I told you that I’m gay?”

Proceed with 45 minutes of him vacillating between asking me questions about being gay, to him being a jerk about the “wasted time and effort” (though he never came out and said that), to him actually STILL trying to get me to sleep with him.  F’real. I finally made the choice for him, and took his ass home.

The next day, I was pissed. Why should I have to justify my sexuality to some dipshit 25-year old kid who only followed me home because he got a boner when I sat in his lap? Why do I even care so much? But most of all: how do I keep this from happening again? I talked to HR about it, and he advocated that I be as up front as possible if a guy starts to invest time in me.  And he also suggested that I dial down the flirtatiousness.  I’m not awful. But I think I have a sort of natural charm that just happens without me realizing it. Until I’m doing it. And then it’s too late to stop.

Saturday night. B2, Virgin Mary, and I are dolled up and ready to rock. If I do say so m’self, I looked pretty awesome. Jeans and rock graffitti Chucks, mohawk in a pomp, black chiffon corset topped with a killer leather vest, 50’s June Cleaver hot pink choker beads, and a huge turquoise ring. Oh yes.

 

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