Stevesthoughtson2

Chicks Dig Gay Guys
(January 29, 2004)

    Clay is one of the greatest people I have ever met.I'm as close to him as I am to almost anyone, and I love the guy to death. We've got hundreds of inside jokes, usually one of us phones the other person to wake them up every day, we shoot the shit on a regular basis, and always have a blast together. He's one of my best friends, and I'm richer for having known him.
     The one conflict we have stems from the fact that Clay is openly gay. Now, he fails to fit almost every stereotype of your average gay guy. He's a fairly big guy, not fat, just big. He's got blonde hair in dreds, and usually wears a hoody and jeans. He pushes like a girl sometimes, and once in a while will say something that sounds a little flamboyant, (plus, he always buys Vanilla Coke,) but to talk to him you probably wouldn't be able to tell. I on the other hand like drinking wine, wear kind of goofy clothes, have a broken heart tattoo, and probably fit more gay stereotypes than Clay does. Even Clay thought I was gay when he first met me. This had led Clay and I to joke around about having a sitcom, where a gay-straight guy (me) and a straight-gay guy (Clay) live together.The jokes would go along the lines of me (being straight) bringing home a girl who then falls for Clay, whose boyfriend then falls for me. We've thought of lots of different episodes, but I'm summarizing. However, little did we know that our sitcom is probably closer to a reality show. Allow me to explain;
     Clay makes speeches about homophobia to classes, some with over 200 people watching him. I usually go just to be supportive and be a good friend. (Plus, they're usually pretty funny. There's this part where everyone yells out all the different stereotypes, and someone always yells out that lesbians are "butch.") Anyways, after one of such speeches, Clay had some gay guys he knew come up to him afterwards and talk to him, who would go on to ask who the guy with the toque at the back of the classroom was. I assume they had seen Clay and I talking, (plus everyone always sees Clay and I walking around together) and they figured I was gay. They were interested. This angered Clay, as the guys were more interested in me than they were in him. There was another night that Clay brought me and a few other friends to a gay-dance. (I'm still straight.) I was all stoked and laughing when a bartender in his mid-fifties came on to me. Clay got nothing. But that's not so bad... I think I've taken more trauma from our friendship than he has.
    Take for example one night in early December, when Clay and I were tossing back beers at a bar called "The Duke." We were just drinking and ranting about relationships, people we lived with, and life in general. Out of nowhere, come three attractive girls, who stand by our table until Clay finishes his sentence. By this point I'm getting all worked up, trying to think of something smooth to say that will show this girls what a cool guy I am, they'll take me home, and everything will come out Steve. Instead, they turn to Clay. "Excuse me," says this brunette, "but would you mind if we took a picture with you?" And Clay stands up, they all duck underneath his arms, and proceed to take a picture. I just sat there, mouth gaped open, unnotticed by the three pretty girls. Clay had earlier that night told me that he once had a threesome with two other girls. I've never had a threesome. How come the gay guy gets more girls than I do?
    Really though, the epitamy came last night, but it started a month ago. During the first week of classes, I got my schedule screwed up, and went to what I thought was my sociology class. The prof. was different, but I recognized a few faces in the room, and thought little of it. By the time I realized it was an anthropology class, it was too late for me to get up and leave. I mean, the proffessor was in the middle of a lecture, everyone's eyes would be on me, and they'd all figure I had diarrhea or something, and I'd be the laughing stock of the school. (I never said I was confident.) To avoid such a disasterous scenario, I just sat there, and pretended to take notes. The class turned out okay, I was right behind this pretty girl, and the prof. showed a movie that was actually pretty interesting. I left feeling like it hadn't been a complete waste of time. Later that day I told Clay about my error, but how it turned out to be not so bad, with the cutey and the movie and everything. Then, a couple

-My actual notes from anthropology!!

-anthropology is centrally concerened with creating and disseminating representations of other peopl
-result of anthropological fieldwork and study is the publication of written accounts but the society we study... (I trailed off here, and at this point began to insert numbers to make my notes look more realistic.)
1. -I'm in the wrong class and am writing this to simply look occupied
2. -it seems to be working
-atleast the girl in front of me is cute

of weeks ago we were at the campus-bar called "The Zoo" and that same girl just happened to be sitting at the booth next to us. I pointed her out to Clay, who just kind of nodded and said "Ahhh." He didn't seem too interested.I made eye-contact with her a couple of times, but didn't get so much as a smile from her. About a week later, Clay went to the Zoo and came back stating that he had had "the best night in a long time." He went on to tell me that he had hit it off with this girl named Carolin, and had sat and talked with her for over an hour, and he got her number.This in itself makes me mad. I have yet to meet a girl and get her phone number right away. Maybe it's in my 'make eye contact and sit silently' strategy, but my gay friend goes out to the bar, and hits it off with some girl right away, who then gives him her phone number. It was last night, when we went to the Zoo, that the sitcom seemed to be way too realistic.
We walked in, and right away I saw that the girl from "my" anthropology class was there. Clay also noticed her, and went right over to talk to her. I was a little taken aback, until I sat down and Clay said "Stevo, this is who I was telling you about! This is Carolin." He proceeded with the introductions, and I clumsily tried to make

conversation with her for a while, but it didn't really seem to go that far. I later told Clay that he had foiled me again, and he thought it was hilareous.
Now, I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong, but I'm losing out to a gay guy. There's another gay-dance coming up this month. I was thinking of going and trying to get all the guys phone numbers I could, just to show Clay, but I figured that might be a little cruel, and I'm not really into making out with dudes. I guess I'll just stick to my 'eye-contact and silence' strategy with girls, and try to learn a few things about picking up girls from my gay friend. Chicks dig gay guys, but not gay-straight guys. Lousy Clay.