Bosoms, buddies.
Due to the proliferation of metrosexuality and hipster influences, it is becoming increasingly difficult to gauge a man’s sexual preference. The fact that so many modern, heterosexual males treat us gay men with respect, now, doesn’t help, either. That’s the dark side of progress. All this good will and open mindedness – we can hardly tell who just wants to be friends and who is interested in benefits.
While a daunting task, an attractive wing(wo)man can help to eliminate confusion. Simply stroll past the intended target, together, and note toward whose ass his gaze is drawn. This has, or rather, had proven to be my most reliable means of deduction. On Thursday, I discovered an even more efficient method after watching my friend Jedd’s band perform at the King King, a music venue in Hollywood.
Two words: Polynesian. Dancers. Neither of my wing(wo)men nor I needed leave our post near the bar to recognize the lust in each and every man’s eyes as soon as the four pairs of almost bare breasts swiveled onstage.
Unfortunately, it isn’t always that easy. Unlike the gay scene, near-nudity is not a common fixture in predominantly heterosexual establishments. For the most part, we must continue to rely on the walk by, or, even better, introduce ourselves.
Say hello. Share a handshake. It may be the only thing you swap that night, but at least you took a chance. And not just at sex, but the possibility of camaraderie, networking, or even a simple, momentarily enjoyable encounter. Because good conversation, good company – more than coitus – is the real benefit of socialization.
