I keep reading comments that I need to put myself in the shoes of girls
and try to live the experience of being a girl. I thought I was doing
that when I bought my abusive boyfriend jeans.
In any event, I decided to really live the experience by going to a gay
bar last night with a female friend. Perhaps this would help me live
the experience and understand what girls go through in the whacky and
perilous world of dating.
The two gay bars I’m most familiar with in NYC have rather intimidating
names: The Manhole, and The Cock. I decided to just go to the one
that is closer to my apartment: The Cock. OK , the name “Manhole” also
scares the hell out of me.
Upon entering the bar, I struggled to perform my usual first instinct:
looking around at how many hot girls there were. It was just men...as
far as the eyes could see.
It immediately became apparent that I could have sex with any of these
guys I wanted to. I’m nothing special, I just know that guys want sex
really bad all the time. This was the first time I’ve ever felt like
sex would be easy. Usually, in straight bars, I’m just trying to
figure out how I can say “hello” to a girl. So—I get it: sometimes
it’s not challenging for girls—because men are sex fiends and they make
it obvious.
My friend stayed in the shadows, and observed the antics. In just a
few hours, I met men that would span the entire spectrum of trying to
get into my pants:
Joe: Joe started off as protective. He would shoo other guys away
from me and seemed so cool at first. But suddenly he betrayed me...by
asking me if I wanted to go outside and get the best head I would ever
get. Wow, Joe—do you really think I’m that easy???
Peter: Peter worked me for a while. He tried to tell me about how he
learned he was gay by accident and if I just tried it, I’d probably
realize I was gay. He tried his best to break me down.
Caleb: Caleb just assumed I was gay and didn’t listen to me when I
said things such as “no,” or “thank you, but I’m not gay”. He just
kept going and assuming:
“So, didn’t I see you at the gay pride parade last year?”
“Do you find that your Speedos ride up too high after a while on the beach?”
Wait, I said nothing about Speedos, the gay pride parade, or anything.
I’ve just been standing here, listening to my friend laugh.
John: What a breath of fresh air. John made no assumptions—he just
talked to me as a friend. We discussed whether Ashley Tisdale looked
better pre or post nose job. We talked fashion. He gave me great
advice. We talked music. He made fun of everything—he was hilarious.
When a guy would come over and get creepy with me, John would remark:
“Ugh, he is soooo gay,” after the guy walked away.
John treated me with respect, he even talked to the girl I was with
(barely any of the other guys did)—he didn’t assume, or try anything.
It was great.
Luckily, I’m a lot like John when I’m out, because I rarely have sex on
my mind. But it’s disturbing. I saw it in black and white:
Guys are snakes. They only care about one thing, and they get conniving, political, and sneaky to get it.
The good part about being a girl: you really don’t have to pay for
many drinks. The boys treated me to drinks all night. Perhaps I’ll
just go to a gay bar before I go out for real, as a pre-game because I
won’t have to pay for anything.
Surrounding myself with gay guys was an interesting way to learn what
it’s like to be a girl: to be pursued and to know I could have sex if
I wanted to. One of my clients at my job is gay, and I find myself
flirting with him a lot. Just the other day I was told:
“The client really likes you”.
This brought up the question: does he like me because I’m cute, or
because of the work I do? Sure, it’s nice to be able to flirt some,
but I’d like him to think I’m intelligent and not just something to
look at. This is just the beginning of things women struggle with in
male-dominated office situations.
Do you think what I learned is true and valuable? Was this a good way to try to see what it was like to be a woman?
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