Fag Stag

Now, for those of you who don't know, the fag stag is a truly exotic breed. He is that straight guy who loves to hang out with gay men. Sometimes for fashion advice, sometimes for easy access to the hot, yet allusive, fag hags and sometimes simply for attention.

In moving to a small beach community, you'd think I had left behind the gay world of tight t-shirts, cosmopolitans and protein shakes. But as the metrosexual phenomenon has raged into a true epidemic, fag stags are blooming everywhere. It's no longer cool to put down "sissies" or try to dress as sloppy as possible. In fact, it's just the opposite. Straight guys will go out of their way to prove to you that they are "okay" with you being gay. They'll even go so far as to compliment you on your shoes, help you check a guy out in their most jocular tone ("Dude. Check out the ass on that guy! I bet you'd love to pound that, huh?")...or even unabashedly flirt with you. Which while every gay man claims this as their favorite fantasy, in reality it can be pretty creepy.

Case In Point #1
I am now my gym's official "spotter". I've never had so many boys ask me, "Hey, man. Can you spot me a couple reps?" Now, normally I'd be put off being approached at the gym. I'm there to work out, not chit-chat. So when I irritably pull out my iPod mini ear buds, I'm surprised at how quickly my mood changes. Especially when he's cute. Especially when he's smiling. And especially when I realize I'm wearing a t-shirt that says: "I'd rather be cock fighting."

Case In Point #2
While at the airport recently, my gay friend and I noticed a muscular guy in a Metallica tank top cruising us. One minute we were convinced he was gay. The next, he was straight. Putting on my detective hat, I affected my best devastatingly-charming-yet-indifferent attitude and flirted with him. Sure enough, he took the bait. He begain chatting, smiling and (I swear I am not kidding) he even leaned forward, allowing his shirt to ride up so I could see his underwear. That's when I thought: wait. something is not quite right here. Eventually he started talking about how he's a "musician" (translate: drifter with no job) and how he'd met a couple of nice people the night before who let him stay at their house for a bit. *Little red flag goin off* This was no gay man! This was one of those "gay for pay" guys you hear about. Only in this case, I feel like he would have been "gay for a #3 meal at McDonald's".

Case In Point #3
This morning I went to brunch with some friends at one of the cheesy, Sunset Strip staples, the Saddle Ranch. This is one of those truly American establishments where they throw peanuts on the floor and try to make you ride a mechanical bull to everyone's enjoyment but yours. After our meal, the waiter comes up to us and says excitedly, "Hey! You guys come over here! I'm gonna ride the bull!" Rolling our eyes, we oblige and follow him. And let me tell you, this boy made 8 seconds on a bull look like 8 seconds on Colin Farrel. At one point, he even lifted his hands free, using only his thighs to grip the steel steed. Afterwards he came over to us, proudly claiming, "You know, a bunch of gays come in every weekend and give me $50 to ride that bull. I've gotten really good at it!"

This weekend, my boyfriend and I went out to drinks with a straight couple. I was immediately annoyed when I realized that this straight guy was dressed better than I was! I mean, if this gender blending continues...will women need their gay boyfriends at all anymore? How will they even be able to tell us apart? Will Barbie and Ken eventually be able to share wardrobes?

Still, it seems there is a small ray of hope. As we walked out of the bar, I noticed the guy's outfit again. Brown shoes, black belt. I suppose some things you're just born with.