There IS a First Time For EVERYTHING
Living in New York has it’s own series of firsts. The first time you realize that it now takes a significant amount of fucked up shit to sketch you out. There’s your first street rat, your first cockroach, your first near-groping in the subway. And then there’s the inevitable, confidence-shattering, gay almost-lover. I mean, really, who hasn’t it happened to?
Everyone has their expectations about living in the city. And they mostly all stem from Sex and the City reruns. At first, everything is just fabulous. You finally get the stereotypical gay best friend you’ve always dreamed of. You¹ll go shopping together, hit on guys at dive bars, and he¹ll always let you know when you¹re having a bad hair day in a delightfully bitchy, witty way. Your life is a Bravo reality show and you love it. For a little while anyway.
Then, after months of spending your time with only gay men and girlfriends and some intense sexual frustration, you meet a guy who’s actually pretty perfect. He’s sensitive, gets all of your jokes, and never complains about your chick flick obsession. Sure, he might be a little bit more feminine than the men you’re used to dating and it’s kind of odd having a man being so opinionated about your outfit choices, but hey, it¹s refreshing being around someone who’ll actually showers before going out!
One night you two go to a party. You enter holding hands and things couldn’t be more perfect. But then half way through the night, you walk in on your new boyfriend with his tongue down another guy’s throat. Oh…
They say that ignorance is bliss but the fact that you couldn’t see the glaring, flashing red alerts just makes you feel like a fucking moron. I once had a roommate who started bringing around a particularly nice guy. Just a friend at first, but it wasn’t long before he was over all the time and late-night dinners turned to sleepovers. When I would ask if there was anything going on, she would smile shyly, not masking the fact that, although they were still technically just friends, she desired something more. But you know what’s coming. And then it finally happened. One day when we were all in her room, he, sprawled out across her bed, began excitedly filling us in on his latest romantic prospective – a guy named Matt. About twenty different emotions flashed across the poor girl’s face. She should of seen the signs: the Lady Gaga t-shirt, the tears during a viewing of The Help, the fact that he always smelled really nice…He was never trying to deceive her or hide his sexuality. He just thought she had assumed that he was gay and didn’t consider it a big enough deal to mention aloud. I mean, why would she have let him sleep in her bed with her all the time if he wasn’t gay? Awkward…
And then there’s some who have become well aware of, yet choose to ignore the little, unimportant factor of sexual orientation. Take my friend Danielle for instance, she embraces our mutual friend’s Nick’s sexuality – she meets all of his boyfriends and they give each other dating advice after blowing all their cash in Soho. And yet, she still treats him like her boyfriend. Between the showers together and the nights spent spooning, things have crossed over to creepy. And kind of desperate. There’s being close friends and then there’s the old, friends with benefits situation. But in this case, even Danielle has to admit that it’s all just pretend, a fantasy. And when your “pretend” friends with benefits harbors virtually zero physical attraction to you and you’re choosing to ignore that, danger Will Robinson, we have a problem.
The first time a girl accidentally dates a gay guy, is a delicate time. Chances are, confidence has been shattered and a whole new list of insecurities that you never thought you had to worry about before abound. First of all, no you do not look, talk, or walk like a man. He was never hanging out with you because he was romantically interested so relax. Second of all, if you’re distressed because you only seem to be attracting one type of man – the kind who isn’t into women – here’s the thing: every straight girl in a city full of gay men are on the constant lookout for any passably attractive, semi-intelligent, straight guy. Every. Straight. Girl. It¹s like all the lionesses in the jungle are starving and there¹s only one buffalo at the watering hole. The competition is stiff out there, ladies. And it’s fucking frustrating. There will be the nights when you get so desperate for male contact, you will consider doing the unthinkable. Realizing that you’ve been lusting after that guy who sits across from you in your chick-lit book club or your male coworker at Martha Stewart Living is just another one of those New York City firsts, I guess. But you are a strong, independent woman and you will not sink to attempting to seduce a man who isn¹t even into your gender. You can completely give up on the availability of straight men in the city and start attempting to convince the gay ones to start playing for your team, but you can also attempt to use telekinesis to grab your morning coffee and skip the line at Starbucks with roughly the same results. And why bother? You definitely don¹t need a man to survive. You can occupy yourself by doing other things. Focus on your career. Isn¹t that why you came here anyway? Or with a 53% female population in New York City, there¹s always lesbianism…
