When Angie wonders out loud about a man being gay, my ears perk up. She’s not one to make quick judgment calls.
Her reasoning: He’s too at ease with women.
Too at ease with women?
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Many years ago, when Ang and I were first married, we attended a weekly prayer meeting at our (at the time) Sunday School director’s home. He and his wife lived in a somewhat modernized ranch house that had a cozy den lined with upholstered sofas that called out for some deep seeded relaxation. I’m actually surprised someone didn’t fall asleep whilst interceding.
The most respected (spiritually) couple in the group were at least 10 to 15 years older than we, though they’d been married about the same time (a few years). Repeatedly, I found myself paying compliments to the woman regarding how she was dressed, her hair, or simply her appearance in general. It would happen after we were seated across from each other WITH HER BEAU RIGHT NEXT TO HER. This would visibly shake her husband every time it happened. And it happened a lot.
I knew not to do it. I would tell myself to stop, but I simply couldn’t. I wasn’t trying to piss off her man. It was more like an incredibly bizarre behavioral tic that I simply couldn’t control. Eventually, we stopped attending the prayer meeting.
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Gay men, like all men, when it comes to relationships, default towards the path of least resistance. This is what I was doing at the prayer meeting. None of my compliments towards this much older, married woman were sincere. I was simply less intimidated by her than her husband, despite the fact that he was a nerd (I’m one too).
My best friend in high school spent countless hours with his female best friend. The bulk of their summer breaks were spent together at her parent’s house doing little of nothing. She had an ongoing crush on him, but he was clearly gay (like myself). He tolerated her because he was simply more comfortable around her vagina (despite the fact that she had quite the masculine personality attached to it). It was a very bizarre situation that was made even more so by the fact that I served to exist as the third wheel (when they’d invite me over).
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Is it fair to say that all men who are at ease around women are gay? Of course not. But, men (or boys) who have a plethora of female friends and few, if any, masculine male friends, are definitely suspect.
Being gay is rooted in a man’s feminine self being dominant within his psyche despite the fact that he has a cock and balls dangling between his legs. It’s like a tricked out truck with a custom paint job and 22” rims that’s graced with all the available accessories. Despite the fact that’s it’s attempting to be something else or behave another way, there’s no denying that it is a pickup truck – meant for hauling shit around in (unless it’s a Honda “truck”). If you look under the immaculately clean hood, there’s a torquey V-8 gas guzzler attached to a body on frame chassis that can pull like hell. And that’s what trucks are meant to do. They were built from the ground up to do so day after day after day.
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Today, I tend to politely shun the majority of women who are within my world. I do this because they’re too easy to relate to, and I’m a woman hater (by the world’s standards). Acquiring a guy friend is a challenge. This appeals to me.
Want to make my day? Have a cock and balls hanging between your legs and call me your best friend. And frankly, it doesn’t matter if you’re gay or straight. I’ll still be walking on sunshine.
