You decide to pop by the local gay watering spot for a little while just to get yourself out of the house and to soak up some good ol' homo vibes. Working ten hour shifts with beer-swilling, football-watching, pussy-eating straight guys leaves you a little wanting in the homo department plus it just plain ol' gets on your last gay nerve, if you know what I mean.
You order a Coors Light and step away from the bar to discreetly scan the room. You’ve almost made a full sweep when you spot him in a dark corner. Oh My God, surely heaven must be missing an angel. He’s perfect and better yet, he seems to be here all alone just like you. He has a lightly muscled body and sweet angel’s face with full pouty, kissable lips. Something about his body language gives off that he’s nervous and a little shy and yes, there’s a little wistful gleam in his eyes. It's almost as if he’s begging someone to come up to him and say something. Awww, he’s melting your very heart and you can just see the two of you buying a new dryer at Home Depot, booking your first gay cruise to Cabo, installing a sling together in the play room and (and much, much later) fighting over who gets custody of Shotzi. You get up your nerve and walk over with your hand extended.
“Hey, I’m Jake. I noticed you here all alone and wanted to come over and talk to you.”
He takes your hand and shakes it briefly, “I’m Ian… thanks.”
OMG! He has a British accent! You are soooooo in love. You talk for a bit more until he excuses himself and says he has to go to the bathroom. You follow him across the room with your eyes and see that he doesn’t go to the bathroom at all. He, instead goes up to the bar, orders a beer and starts talking to an old troll. WTF !!! Fifteen minutes later the troll’s hand is on Ian's bicep and Ian is lightly stroking his cheek with a forefinger, a hungry look blazing from his crystal blue eyes. What the fuck is going on ? He could have had you and he chose this old man instead ? What kind of crazy, fucked-up world are we living in, you ask yourself.
Okay, stop. It’s simple. You weren’t his type. You can’t be everybody’s type, get that through your thick skull. Some people are going to find you fascinating and want to rape you on the spot and some people will have a take-or-leave-you attitude. Accept that, sister and move on.
I once spent 3 hours (3 f-ing hours, mind you!) talking to a guy at a local meet & greet, we’re clicking and firing on all cylinders until I mention that I’m a Gemini. His interest level went from 110 % down to a 2 in a second. It seems he was an astrology freak and had been warned that Gemini’s were flakey and not to be trusted. Before I had time to even be insulted, he was gone and I was left there all alone with nothing but a plate of limp green bean casserole. Should I have be upset or glad that God/fate had stepped in and stopped this from going any further ? Would I have been happy with someone that let such a strong belief in astrology rule all the actions of their day-to-day life ? No, I wouldn’t have been, at all.
So, what I’m getting at is next time somebody isn’t interested or they take a so-so attitude toward you, just chill da fuck out and mentally say, “NEXT !”
Ya’ll be good, okay. Listen at me telling ya’ll to be good when I’m meaner than a bag of rattlesnakes most times…LOL !