Back in the days, I used to regularly hit the gym and the night clubs. Both locations had a large gay population and one of the questions I was frequently asked was “Are you gay or straight?” This happened mostly at the night clubs, but often at the gym too, I’d just get hit on a lot back then.
I recall one night I was at a club and this dude came over and started dancing next to me. He wasn’t dancing with me, but near me if that makes sense. We made eye contact a few times, and y’all know I’m friendly with it. So as we were dancing he taps me on the shoulder and gestures to speak to me. I comply and say “what’s up?” That’s when he asked me, “Gay or straight?”
I smiled and said, “I’m straight, bro.” He seemed taken aback and said, “Really? But the way you are dressed! The way you move! The way you have your eyebrows! Your frosted hair! Dude, no disrespect, but EVERYTHING about you screams queer to the core! Is it just that you don’t like me?” Again, I replied, “Nah bro, it ain’t got nothing to do with you, except for the fact that you are a guy and I like women. If it’s any consolation, if I were gay, I might have been down with you.”
Again, he seemed slightly confused and said “Well thanks for not assaulting me baby. Usually straight guys are not so comfortable with their sexuality and they become aggressive. So are you interested in dancing?” I replied, “Nah man, I ain’t that comfortable. We can shoot the shit and talk if you want, but I’m not up for that.” He replied cool, smiled, and then walked away.
I continued dancing and eventually made my way to a fly woman who I can’t remember at all and then we danced the next few songs away in a drunken bliss. At one point she looks at me and asks, “Gay or straight?”
Growing Up Bronx
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