The neighbor's grass is pinker
My straight friends can't understand why I'm still single, my mom tries to hook me up with men, and my professors try to introduce me to overseas students. This is how I became everybody's pet single guy
Life isn't fair, my good friend K was complaining, as usual. "What happened?" I asked her cautiously, waiting for the can of worms to open up ceremoniously while I was reaching for the tissues and chocolates from the cabinet.
"It's not fair that I spend two months flirting over the internet, and end up with an unattractive accountant, while you spend five months talking over the internet and get yourself a hunk of a guy that takes you home. It's not fair that you go out to a club and come back with phone numbers, and I come back, if anything, smelling like an ashtray."
At first glance, it seems K is right; sometimes meeting a guy is the simplest thing for a young gay man. Ten minutes on dating websites, internet chat rooms or at gay clubs, and you've got a date for the night. But like everything else in life, the story is much more complicated than it seems.
So, why haven't you met someone?
Actually, the chances of anything more long term happening is much lower, and at times I find myself frustrated by the most painful question that has been bothering my heterosexual friends: "how come you are alone?"
The answer is pretty obvious, to me at least: seeing that I would rather hang out a "normal" café, and not at "our place", and spend Friday under my comforter with hot chocolate and a good DVD, my possibilities dwindle down drastically. The fact that I have never, never, picked up anyone (I am too shy), adds to my image of being a snob and probably doesn't do me any good.
The good news is that I am a wanted single guy. The bad news is that I am wanted by straight women and married men over 50. I've left parties with six phone numbers, but the only relationship that resulted over the years was ongoing casual sex with friends, or a semi-relationship that lasted a few months.
Embarrassing mothers, nosy professors
It's one thing that my mother, who burst in tears when I told her I was gay and a few months later almost volunteered to have the next gay pride parade at her house, is now trying to fix me up with different men. I almost died when she drew my attention to a flamboyant sister across the mall, and said: "look! He's gay! Maybe he's single."
But when my professor called me up one morning and asked if it would be rude of her to try to introduce someone to me, I realized that I'd reached a new low.
"He is an MA graduate with honors, and he wrote his thesis on homoerotic elements in the sacred scrolls. He gets 8 for looks on a Kinsey scale and is on personal basis with Judith Butler."
Annoying society
Society's push to fix everybody up in this duo-familial mold really gets on my nerves. To anyone who is listening, I hereby present my arguments against this binary and boring family cell.
Maybe we were meant to be single forever? Maybe we were meant to live in a big free commune, to love without concepts of ownership and legal/religious contracts?
I pose these questions, and usually even manage to convince myself. But when I call it a night with my books, while the rain hits the window, jazz is playing in the stereo, and the red wine has made me a little tipsy, I suddenly feel a little pinch in my heart. Then I understand. I need love.
So what's a boy to do?
I didn't really care for any of the options I was being offered. Going out to "our places" every night, sitting on the bar and waiting for the knight on a white horse (in my case more like a grayish jackass), to hand me a gladiolus flower, just seemed so boring.
Dating over the internet? I am a great believer in it, and I even had a few mini-relationships that began in virtual space. But it just doesn't make my heart flutter.
What about matchmaking through friends? After my date with the 34 year old dermatologist from Petach Tikva I would rather die of psoriasis than go on another blind date.
Learning how to pick up guys? Sorry. I am just too passive for that.
Ongoing drama
'Singlehood' continued, and the offers got more colorful: "join a gay tango group" (tried it and twisted my ankle), "study humanities" (the only gay person I knew there was the professor), "sign up for Holmes Place fitness center" (I was sure the trainer was trying to pick me up, but discovered he was just trying to sell off athletic underwear), "go see Brokeback Mountain" (I left in the middle. I had to pee), and many more creative suggestions that went up in flames.
At least now, every time people ask me "how come you are alone?" – I will have this column to refer to.
Tal Eitan
Great believer in internet dating
Photo: Zwika Tishler
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