I go to a really fun dance class on Wednesday nights, Wet Wednesdays, and will sometimes find myself at Bar Stella afterwords for a well deserved drink. This particular night, a couple of months ago now, I couldn't get the bartender's attention, even in the skimpy top I was wearing, so I suppose I bitched about it a bit. Out loud. Because let's face it, there's nothing more surprising and frustrating than being a blonde in a low cut top and not get what you want.
A charming young gentleman leaned in and explained that the bartender was gay and offered to help me out. He winked, got some attention and shortly thereafter, I had my beverage. Not surprising, I quickly became best friends with my knight in shining armor, who was adorable, outrageously entertaining, in his early twenties, and also gay.
When you're single at a bar, everything is always about sex, and I guess I don't usually mind but this was a nice change. He didn't want to have sex with me and I didn't want to have sex with him. So the pressure was off, and I wasn't afraid to throw the harsh verbal punches I've been told not to throw men, (because it's not feminine or enticing). So it was a night of harsh jargon and hilarious banter and at the end of the night, we exchanged phone numbers so we could hang out again.
We texted a lot and I got excited everytime he texted me because he was so funny and so was I. I was with my friend Maya one day when I got a text from him, and as I beamed while writing a witty response, she rolled her eyes at me, and said something like, "you know he's not gay, right?" Her argument was that no single gay man in their right mind would spend their day texting me or asking me to have drinks. I was so offended. "Well, why not? I'm fun. I can be a great friend to someone gay." Maya said, "Mmm-hmm," and shook her head.
A week or so later, we met for drinks, this time at Covell, which is my "home" bar for a myriad of reasons. The cool design gives it a great vibe without being too hipster, the staff is super attractive and doesn't make you feel stupid about wine. Of course, the most important reason, (no, not the wine) is that it's exactly two blocks from my place, which makes things way easier when you are are a light weight.
Did I mention he was blonde too?
It was another great night with my new gay BFF. We got to know each other better, and the witty banter was there right away. I made fun of him for ordering the "tulip beer" from the board (that's the glass some beers are served in) and he made fun of me for something, which I can't remember, but I laughed like a hyena because it was funny and also because I was on my second glass of wine. Did I mention one and a half is my hard limit?
He walked me home and after we talked about seeing each other again, he gave me a hug and kissed me on the lips like a good gay BFF. Then he stuck his tongue in my mouth. It took me a beat to figure out what was happening. My drunken mind couldn't compute, and started to throw random thoughts at me. "What?" "Wait!" "Is he or isn't he?" "Could he be gay AND be French kissing me right now?" "Did I make up the whole gay thing?" And then of course, "What do I do right now?"
I opted to not pull away like a scared animal, because that would be rude, but to swiftly finish what he had started, and a bit more gracefully, if I may say so. Then I walked into my apartment and started laughing. Not at him, but at the situation because I suppose this is what happens when you decide something about someone, which may or may not be true. I laughed at myself and how completely checked out I am sometimes.
In hindsight, there were signs, other than Maya's opinion, and I suppose I was about as oblivious and clueless to those as I am when straight men are hitting on me. Which I guess is what this really was. Or was it?
I guess I should have known when he talked about watching "the game" and drinking beer every Sunday, although I know gay guys who do that. I guess I should have known when we played "Fuck, kill or marry," and he looked completely flabbergasted when I pointed to Shaughn the bartender, and two male patrons to choose from. I guess I should have known when Ellen, another bartender, whispered "You're on a date, right?" as he went to the bathroom.
In my defense I was pretty drunk. So drunk that when I woke up the next day I discovered that the "wrap" I had carried home was in fact not my wrap, but one of Covell's cloth napkins. A wrap for really tiny people. Thinking back and trying to remember the things he did say that made him gay to me, I can't think of a single thing, other than he got the bartender's attention at Bar Stella that night. Which doesn't really make him gay at all. I guess I just had a blonde moment that lasted for a couple of weeks...