I was in college before I had my first openly gay friend. I thought my first gay friend would be my college roommate, because he exhibited behaviors that were often stereotypically associated with the gay community: he was a vocal music major, loved musicals (would go on and on about Rent/Cats/others), and loved Barbara Streisand. A couple of months later, when I actually became friends with the guy that would be my first real gay friend, he too was convinced that my roommate was gay and just repressed. We would often try to convince my roommate that it was okay for him to be gay, and that we would be very supportive of him and his lifestyle, but eventually it just made my roommate move out rather than come out. I never fully thanked my actual gay friend for helping me see the world in a different way, but from that point on, I tried to be an ally as much as I possibly could. This was long before I understood feminism, privilege, or entitlement, so it was just the first step in my long journey to trying to be a better ally towards all people.
Sometime between dropping out of college and my young twenties in Baltimore, I noticed that if you were ever in public and two girls started making out, it would normally result in a bunch of hetero-normative, cis-gendered, white males forming a circle around them. It always came off more like a show for attention than a show of affection. Didn’t everyone involved in the circle see that they weren’t necessarily doing it because they liked it, but more because they could then choose which of the slavering, backwards hat wearing idiots they could then go home with that night? I learned early on that an actual lesbian encounter doesn’t involve dudes, so I am really unsure why this behavior ended up as such a common thing.
While in Baltimore, I had a lot of male friends who, like myself, were somewhat against this behavior while in bars. If I said we weren’t into females, that would just be a lie, but the idea of being impressed by something that theatrical was just beyond us. One friend and I even took it upon ourselves to break up such parties if they ever did take place. We would wait for the two people to start making out, wander up as close as we could get to the action, and proceed to just start making out directly in front of them. All it would take is about a half of a second of hot, steamy, dude-on-dude action for the circle of salivating idiots to exclaim “I’m not gay!” and storm off.
Does that make me a little gay? I don’t think so, but I am not really concerned with what others think. I did think it was always funny though.