(no subject)
Jan. 15th, 2012 03:36 pmHey guys, do these jeans make my ass look queer?
Trick question, of course. Trousers can't alter your sexual orientation. (Though wouldn't it be great if they could? Think of the possibilities. "Put on your gay pants, guys, we're going to Boys Town!") Apparently I just look deceptively queer today.
I was waiting for a train home from downtown this afternoon, idly checking my email and kind of annoyed that all the good food places were closed, when this dude walked past me in the train station, stopped, and said, "For a moment, I thought you were a queer. You got a dollar?"
...THE FUCK?
Ideally, I would have replied, "What makes you think I'm not?" or possibly "I left my cash in my straight-boy wallet" or, as Dove suggested on Twitter, "Sorry, all I have are these three dollar bills" (which is BRILLIANT). But I just stared at him, confused, until he walked away.
I wasn't insulted that apparently something about me pinged his gaydar. I wasn't even shocked that this dude decided who I fuck was any of his business and/or that he got it wrong, because our culture is obsessed with obsessing over who other people sleep with. I was just totally flummoxed by the fact that he thought my percieved sexuality was a) a good conversation opener or b) a good lead-in to a request for money. I realise this is probably something some people encounter on a regular basis but I have literally never run into anything like it before, and it stumped me.
I'm going to assume he had Tourettes, because otherwise I can only come up with two possibilities.
First, he decided I probably got called a queer a lot, and would like a boost to my heterosexuality by being told he doesn't think I'm actually gay.
Second, and much more amusing if also more despair-inducing, he actually meant it 100% heartfelt: he looked at me and decided my lithe physique or new haircut or stylish leather jacket indicated I like cock. Then I did something so unbelievably heterosexual that he just couldn't help confessing his misconception. Maybe the way I pushed buttons on my phone screamed "I like tits"?
I need to never go downtown on a Sunday again. The trains are slow, all the good places to eat are closed, and people question my sexuality before panhandling from me.
Trick question, of course. Trousers can't alter your sexual orientation. (Though wouldn't it be great if they could? Think of the possibilities. "Put on your gay pants, guys, we're going to Boys Town!") Apparently I just look deceptively queer today.
I was waiting for a train home from downtown this afternoon, idly checking my email and kind of annoyed that all the good food places were closed, when this dude walked past me in the train station, stopped, and said, "For a moment, I thought you were a queer. You got a dollar?"
...THE FUCK?
Ideally, I would have replied, "What makes you think I'm not?" or possibly "I left my cash in my straight-boy wallet" or, as Dove suggested on Twitter, "Sorry, all I have are these three dollar bills" (which is BRILLIANT). But I just stared at him, confused, until he walked away.
I wasn't insulted that apparently something about me pinged his gaydar. I wasn't even shocked that this dude decided who I fuck was any of his business and/or that he got it wrong, because our culture is obsessed with obsessing over who other people sleep with. I was just totally flummoxed by the fact that he thought my percieved sexuality was a) a good conversation opener or b) a good lead-in to a request for money. I realise this is probably something some people encounter on a regular basis but I have literally never run into anything like it before, and it stumped me.
I'm going to assume he had Tourettes, because otherwise I can only come up with two possibilities.
First, he decided I probably got called a queer a lot, and would like a boost to my heterosexuality by being told he doesn't think I'm actually gay.
Second, and much more amusing if also more despair-inducing, he actually meant it 100% heartfelt: he looked at me and decided my lithe physique or new haircut or stylish leather jacket indicated I like cock. Then I did something so unbelievably heterosexual that he just couldn't help confessing his misconception. Maybe the way I pushed buttons on my phone screamed "I like tits"?
I need to never go downtown on a Sunday again. The trains are slow, all the good places to eat are closed, and people question my sexuality before panhandling from me.