I'll be the first to teach the Gaydar Class
Friday, June 29, 2007
Every inhabitant of Manhattan needs the ability to decipher who is gay and who is not. Especially the straight female population who is often lulled into a false euphoria by a pair of dreamy blue eyes, before realizing they are attached to a man talking about Madonna.
Initially, I was thinking that people should be required to wear some sort of marking that denoted their sexual preference, but that seemed rather Nazi-esque. Plus, if Diesel jeans and a great haircut aren’t enough of an indicator, I don’t know what would be. And so I arrived at the conclusion that gaydar training should be made mandatory when one attempts to crawl to Manhattan’s nightlife.
Case in point:Last night I went out with The Model and a few people from his work. My friend from work--a kooky, crazy thing who I adore for obvious reasons--had one too many gin and tonics (or just the right amount, depending on how you look at it) and began talking to my friend The Model and his “friend”. Both are very, very good-looking.
And lived together.
In a one bedroom.
Who both work in creative fields.
Who wanted to discuss their many celebrity friends.
Who were wearing matching designers. (it certainly wasn’t helping to create an image of heterosexuality.)
Within an hour or so the girl had whittled her obvious fascination with both down to a more focused crush on one. We decided to go next door to a local karaoke bar. (I know.)
I wanted to say something but she seemed so happy with her prize, even mouthing to me “He’s so cute.” So I said nothing. Besides, I told myself, I shouldn’t get involved and crush her heart. But couldn’t she notice their startling attractiveness and attention to grooming. This was the era of the metrosexual, wasn’t it? Couldn’t straight men be hot?Apparently not.
At the next bar the man in question (The Model’s “friend”) tipped the woman running karaoke so he could sing immediately. Then he pranced (there is no other word for it) around the stage. Then he called my friend "girlfriend". I found myself thinking “it is so obvious.”
Many karaoke songs later, (no, I did not sing) The Model and I decided to go home. My friend looked alarmed. “But this is going to be so awkward. You’re going to leave me alone with him?” (she had no idea that The Model and his “friend” were sexually involved)
“Um,” I said.
“Do you think I should go home with him?” she asked as she leaned forward conspiratorially. “He’s soooooo cute!”
Oh my God. I had never heard her squeal before. It was frightening. I had to say something.“Don’t you think he might be...”Just then the “friend” ran up behind her and gave her a hug. I stopped talking. She would figure it out eventually. Plus, he really did seem to like her in a platonic sort of way, so at the very least my friend had made a new pal. She could find her Prince Charming, or at least Prince Heterosexual, another night.
Still, if she had received gaydar training upon moving here (she’s from the Midwest), she could have wasted one less night in the all too common pursuit of a man interested in penises.
See? This is a great idea. I’m charging 500 bucks an hour bitches!
Initially, I was thinking that people should be required to wear some sort of marking that denoted their sexual preference, but that seemed rather Nazi-esque. Plus, if Diesel jeans and a great haircut aren’t enough of an indicator, I don’t know what would be. And so I arrived at the conclusion that gaydar training should be made mandatory when one attempts to crawl to Manhattan’s nightlife.
Case in point:Last night I went out with The Model and a few people from his work. My friend from work--a kooky, crazy thing who I adore for obvious reasons--had one too many gin and tonics (or just the right amount, depending on how you look at it) and began talking to my friend The Model and his “friend”. Both are very, very good-looking.
And lived together.
In a one bedroom.
Who both work in creative fields.
Who wanted to discuss their many celebrity friends.
Who were wearing matching designers. (it certainly wasn’t helping to create an image of heterosexuality.)
Within an hour or so the girl had whittled her obvious fascination with both down to a more focused crush on one. We decided to go next door to a local karaoke bar. (I know.)
I wanted to say something but she seemed so happy with her prize, even mouthing to me “He’s so cute.” So I said nothing. Besides, I told myself, I shouldn’t get involved and crush her heart. But couldn’t she notice their startling attractiveness and attention to grooming. This was the era of the metrosexual, wasn’t it? Couldn’t straight men be hot?Apparently not.
At the next bar the man in question (The Model’s “friend”) tipped the woman running karaoke so he could sing immediately. Then he pranced (there is no other word for it) around the stage. Then he called my friend "girlfriend". I found myself thinking “it is so obvious.”
Many karaoke songs later, (no, I did not sing) The Model and I decided to go home. My friend looked alarmed. “But this is going to be so awkward. You’re going to leave me alone with him?” (she had no idea that The Model and his “friend” were sexually involved)
“Um,” I said.
“Do you think I should go home with him?” she asked as she leaned forward conspiratorially. “He’s soooooo cute!”
Oh my God. I had never heard her squeal before. It was frightening. I had to say something.“Don’t you think he might be...”Just then the “friend” ran up behind her and gave her a hug. I stopped talking. She would figure it out eventually. Plus, he really did seem to like her in a platonic sort of way, so at the very least my friend had made a new pal. She could find her Prince Charming, or at least Prince Heterosexual, another night.
Still, if she had received gaydar training upon moving here (she’s from the Midwest), she could have wasted one less night in the all too common pursuit of a man interested in penises.
See? This is a great idea. I’m charging 500 bucks an hour bitches!
LOVE, LOVE your new pic!! haven't seen one of those sinced we worked together!! :)
I still have the "life is a puzzle..." one. oooh and the one where you're dancing!! LOL
Oh jesus that's hysterical, that could even be the beginning of a bad romantic comedy starring Jennifer Garner and Neil Patrick Harris
wait...did she ever find out? did she go home and slit her wrists over ANOTHER one that "got away"? what did the model sing at karaoke?
don't leave me in suspense?!
Tiff - Yeah, I remember!!! they were my favorites. uh yeah I hope you kept all of my drawings. they are going to be worth a shit load of money when i die!
Andre - Want to direct it?
Cawfee- He sang a series of Madona and Kelly Clarkson songs 1) Like a virgin 2) the vogue song. and a few other ones. Oh let me tell ya, she still has no idea. We left her with him, they had a blast, they got wasted and went their seperate ways. He hasnt called her since. DUH!!!
Can I be your TA and wear mini skirts with high socks and hair in pigtails and a lolipop in my oh so sweet lips?
thanks.
Lauren- you sure can.