Monday, December 20, 2010
Their Strag to Our Fag Hag: Straight BF/Man Crush
You know what I am talking about. Those straight men we befriend and know nothing will ever happen between the two of you...at least not without a few drinks and bong hits. Ok, maybe not, but from what I understand not as nearly impossible, but I digress. These straight men attract us for some reason,be it sexually, physically, the chase of a conquest that may never be, or the fact that gay men love men! After all that is what makes us gay...other than talking with our hands and dressing fantastically fabulous, and according to a previous post bar/club hopping.
Other than the physical reasons (hey looking at hot guys is always good), I like the company of straight men because I can be myself. It seems around gay men or gay social settings, I feel like I am playing a role. Playing an identity, that frankly can be exhausting. I know what you are saying, I should just be myself at ALL times. I wish that were true, but you know we all perform some type of identity at any given time. Whether if we are working and have to wear a uniform according to corporate standards, dancing in the gay clubs with our hands over our heads, or giving head in the local bathroom. Hey, do what you want, I don't judge. But whatever it is we are always performing.
But, when I am around straight men I am more cool, calm, casual, and collected (I don't get all crazy obsessive like on a first date). They don't care if my hair isn't all done up, or if my shoes are scuffed, or that I am not wearing the latest Diesel jeans. I can throw back a beer with them, chat up a shit storm. OMG, I am so butch! Believe it or not gay men and straight men can get along and have things in common. They can share the same musical tastes (sounds gay), art, photography, sports (whether it be chasing men/women).
When I am around gay men, I feel like I have to be on point, look a certain way, smell like a certain scent (preferably Prada Amber Gris), know what Karl Lagerfeld said yesterday and what Vogue is deeming beautiful, and fuck what Lady Gaga is wearing. I get hung up in all my insecurities, and then my face starts getting oily, from the stress, so I have to go blot in the bathroom. Fuck where does it end! My head hurts from just writing and thinking about it.
As I hung out with my straight crush/boyfriend, he taught me that I must stand a certain way going up the escalator. I must have my leg up. My posture is all wrong. Then he told me about his ex-girlfriend problems and his ideas of love, yes GIRLS, straight men do know what they want. They just can't articulate it well. So they have us to help them out with it. Aside from that I noticed that as a gay man I am dependent on them, the straight counterpart. To put my emotional status in check.
Shit, I am their version of our "fag hag." What does that make me? A Strag (straight-hag) opposed to a fag stag, because we depend on their friendship more so than theirs to ours. It's a queerly phrased/phased bromance (sometimes a symbiotic relationship) that is blooming, with the fact that, HEY I have a crush on you too, but I won't hit on you or make you get naked in front of me. I promise.
I am alright with that, being their Strag. Now off to eat with my fellow straight boyfriend. He never judges me for scarfing down chicken crispers and getting sauce on my face! Much love.