On Wednesday after work, I says to Scott, you have to come to my new regular gym to check out the Pale Personal Trainer (PPT). So we meet up and it’s still bloody hot and I’m wearing suit trousers and a shirt and sunglasses and Scott is dressed like a gay acrobat and then we go to the gym.
In the gym we’re aiming for one very hot English pale guy, but we’re not prepared for what actually happens. We get two.
PPT is there as we walk in and he’s training some old geezer and he catches my eye once, then he catches my eye twice within the first ten seconds and I ask Scott, why is he looking at me, he must want me. And Scott says, no he can probably feel four eyes staring at him and he’s wondering why. Which seems a little bit more likely.
In any case Scott also likes PPT and this is big news from somebody who doesn’t like blue-eyed English guys and usually goes for monkey-types with limited verbal skills.
But then, it all kicks off. Some other guy turns up and what we know about this guy is:
He has dark hair
He is straight
He is English
He is WHITE. In a quick scan of the gym, he’s the whitest person alongside me and PPT
He is a God
He is wearing a t-shirt that’s loose, but you can still see he is specifically designed with gay fantasy clichés in mind
And as we work out he looks over at us occasionally and this time Scott asks me. Why do you think he keeps looking. And I’m confident about this, I can work this out, I’ve spent 28 years being friends with straight boys and I can tell what they think.
This boy keeps looking over because he sees that we’re muscly (sort of) and he sees that we like going to the gym and because he’s the same, he looks at us in a friendly / competitive way. This is what muscly straight boys do. They identify other guys they think are similar to them and they feel an affinity and at the same time competitiveness about who’s more of an Alpha male / leader of the pack.
Of course if he knew me for real he’d know I’m much lower down the alphabet, perhaps you need to go into AA, AB as well like an Excel spreadsheet does when it runs out of letters, but right now he likes me because I look like I know how to lift the right weights.
Trapped between PPT and Superman I begin to lose my mind and can’t really concentrate, and in that daze, I decide to talk to one of them.
I’m sorry but I’m happy.
I’ll be happy until he realizes I’m a fag and he stops talking to me. Why do I obsess about straight guys so much?