Altar-ing Reality

Dear Homo,

I've got something that has been pestering me this week. Before I tell you what, please, please know that I FULLY support equal rights and marriage for all. (I would love to see you get your happily ever after, honey.) Keep this in mind! Now, it was in various articles this week how Dax Shepard and Kristen Bell, like Brangelina, are saying we won't wed til everyone can. I get it. I totally respect that they are showing their support publicly for an important issue in a way they see fit. But the bitchy cynic in me is saying, "Really? Do they think the baboons out there will say, 'Oh crap, we better change legislation ASAP so these actors can get married and be featured on People Magazine!'"

I want to know your thoughts.

--Just Curious (but not curious in a winkwink sort of way)

Dear Curious,

Homo thanks you for your queery and must (again) point out that our mail bag has been empty for over a year now, making Homo wonder if you are the ONLY curious person -- sexually or otherwise -- left in the universe. In any case, on to the question at hand:

Can celebrity couples like Brangelina and Krax influence the masses with regard to the issue of marriage equality by postponing their own nuptials until said equality is achieved?

The answer is simple: Of course not. And absolutely.

(We homos do love our paradoxes, don't we?)

Look: Celebrities have been spouting off about one thing or another for as long as anyone can remember. Charles Lindbergh tried to keep America out of World War II. Actor Ronald Reagan worked to bolster unions (unlike President Ronald Reagan, who worked to destroy them). "Hanoi Jane" Fonda infamously posed with a North Vietnamese anti-aircraft missile to protest the war in 1972 (although she was FABULOUS in "On Golden Pond"). Charlton Heston loved guns the way John Travolta loves massages. And of course, we all know how Clint Eastwood feels about chairs.

Personally, I would have rather seen him with Cher.

The most common response to such star statements, especially in these jaded cynical times, is: "Who cares?" Ask the average person on the street -- gay, straight, liberal, conservative or Scientologist -- and he'll tell you that celebrity endorsements matter not one whit. For either he already shares the celebrity's opinion, or, if he doesn't, he claims that there's no way in hell some dumb actor can sway his deeply felt convictions.

And that's the truth, in a literal, short-term way. Or, to answer your question directly, No. No Bible-thumping homophobe in Kansas is going to suddenly find herself marching for marriage equality because she simply must see photos of Dax and Kristen at the altar.

And yet: There is a larger, more subtle impact when famous people take these kinds of political stands. It highlights the issue. It furthers the conversation. It forces Americans to do the one thing they hate doing: THINK. And that's the first step toward equality.

Moreover, a shocking number of people still find the notion of two men or two women together inherently icky. It's not the gay wedding so much that bothers them, but imagining the honeymoon that comes afterwards. So whenever unspeakably sexy straight celebs like Brad, Angelina, Dax or Kristen speak up for gay marriage, an important psychosexual shift occurs. In layman's terms, if I want to bone Angelina, and Angelina doesn't have a problem with the idea of a dude boning another dude, then maybe I don't have a problem with the idea of a dude boning another dude.

If that sounds stupid to you, remind yourself that 17 percent of registered voters believe President Obama is a Muslim. We are not a nation of intellectuals.

On a final note, although I applaud the courageous stand taken by Dax Shepard and Kristen Bell, I would like to strongly voice my opposition to their marriage. There's only one person Dax Shepard should marry.

Me.

I'll make him forget Sarah Marshall.

Get me to the church on time,

Homo



I Ain't Sayin' She's a Gold-Digger...

Dear Homo,

I am a serial blind dater and constantly having first and second dates that don't lead to anything. Last night I had a first date with someone who was more appealing than most of the men I've met recently - he seemed very sweet, educated and though he is far from a hottie, I didn't mind his looks. However, he doesn't have a job. He has been without a regular job for over a year, and from what I can tell, the sorts of jobs he pursues are very low-paying. 

Though I am trying not to let it bother me, it sort of does, and I can't help but wonder if I should not date him again because of his lack of employment. Is that superficial?

Signed,
Show Me The Money

Dear SMTM,

First, I think it's important that my readers know your gender, as it has some bearing on my advice to you. Though you don't mention it, I surmise by your email address that you are a woman.

(Incidentally, dear readers, I implore you: Please make it clear in your queries whether you are male, female, trans, gay, straight, bi, pan-fried, seared or vegan. Homo believes all people are created equal, but that doesn't necessarily mean their predicaments are.)

OK; so should you date this dead-beat? My answer is: Maybe.

SMTM, the real question here is not what kind of job he has, but what kind of goals. If you follow the news, you know that a whole lot of extremely talented, hard-working, ambitious people are out of a job right now -- about one in 10 Americans, actually. A far greater number are working at vocations beneath their skill sets and contrary to their desires. Times are tough.

So maybe your blind date lacks the drive and personal resources to land a good gig, or maybe he's just unlucky. Or maybe he is so passionate about his hobbies -- gardening, volley ball, cunnilingus -- that he simply lacks the time necessary to fully commit to a career.

Or maybe he's just a dead-beat.

It would be worth finding out. Because if you're anything like me, SMTM, you don't really care how much money a person makes or what kind of job he has, but rather that he does SOMETHING. And does it well. Human beings are attracted to achievement -- period. How else can you explain the tens of millions currently watching Apolo Anton Ohno circle endlessly around a rink?  (Of course, Homo wishes Apolo would circle endlessly around Homo's bed wearing nothing but skates and a smile. But Homo is getting himself needlessly worked up.)

But then again, you're not really like me, SMTM. You're a woman, and a straight one at that. So in addition to feeling the natural desire for a high achiever, you've also got that "searching for a provider" gene inherent in so many straight women -- even highly successful, wealthy women. It is often -- but not always -- different for us gay guys. We value other things more than one's ability to provide. Such as one's enormous penis.

To that end, I am less concerned about the whole job issue than I am about your saying: "I didn't mind his looks." Wow. Try applying that sentiment to any other aspect of a potential mate -- "I didn't mind his breath..." "I didn't mind his voice..." "I didn't mind his backne..." -- and you'll begin to see the problem.

Of course, a guy's physical attractiveness can change as you get to know him, just as his apparent earning potential can. And given that you did find him "more appealing" than your other recent dates, I would allow the guy one more try. But if afterwards you're even less enchanted than you were before, it'll be time to kick this loser to the curb.

I hope this helps.

No Scrubs,

Homo

Stage Fright

Hi Homo-ey,

I'm a gay man working in the theater world, in a position of some influence. Over the last couple of years, a theater producer I'd never met -- but we knew each other by reputation -- would put vaguely flirty posts on my Facebook wall. Then, two months ago, I was attending a show that he produced, and he cornered me during intermission and was quite chatty. It was clear that he was flirting with me -- he kept touching my arms, even my chest, and made one flattering remark about my body. I eventually shook his hand and said goodnight. 

The next day he hit me up by email and basically asked me out to dinner/drinks/coffee. I wasn't interested in him romantically, but I also didn't want to create any awkwardness between us, because I might well need to work with him in the future. I basically replied that I was very busy and didn't have time to get together in the near future, and that I hoped he was well. 

Then, this weekend, out of the blue, he emailed me again, proposing dinner/drinks/coffee. I'm not sure what to do. How direct should I be in expressing a lack of interest, given that we move in the same professional circles? Or should I get off my high horse and just go to dinner with him and try to make it clear that this is a friendly/working relationship? I have a feeling the latter move might lead him on. I don't know. Help!

Signed,
Broadway Baby

Dear BB,

Your query calls to mind some of my all-time favorite Broadway musicals. While your hapless hoofer keeps huffing, "God, I Hope I Get It" from A Chorus Line, you're playing South Pacific's Nellie Forbush, stuck in a perpetual loop of, "I'm Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair." While he's crooning West Side Story's "Something's Coming," you're belting out, "Good Night and Thank You" from Evita. While he's suggesting "Let's Misbehave" from Anything Goes, you're all "Please Don't Touch Me" from Young Frankenstein.

Having thereby established my own Broadway credentials, I hereby instruct you to lower the curtain on this production. And do it now...  before the second act.

Look, it sounds like you've been both pleasant and professional with this guy -- letting him know, in the nicest way possible, that your interest in him is strictly platonic. Yet he's been downright creepy, unduly persistent and utterly invasive of your personal space. (Touching your arms and chest? AT A BROADWAY SHOW?! That's almost as tacky as the use of recording devices while Patti LuPone is shrieking.)

Homo gets that your professional proximity to this person makes your position precarious. And as Noël Coward once said, "It is discouraging how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit." But honest you must be.

My repsonse to your producer-in-heat's latest entreaty would be: "I'd love to get drinks with you sometime as friends. But just so there's no misunderstanding, I'm not interested in dating you." Such a reply may seem blunt or even cold, but if my instincts are right, he's the kind of guy who needs a sandbag to fall on his head in order to get the picture.

By the way: Don't be surprised if he comes back with something along the lines of, "Well, of course! I wasn't suggesting we'd be anything other than friends!" That's typical face-saving bullshit. All you have to do is say: 

"OK, I just wanted to be sure, given that we work in the same business. My apologies if I was presumptuous." You can thus play the fool and let him think he's gotten the upper hand. Homo knows otherwise,  and so do you.

I hope this helps.

Remember to Silence Your Cell Phones,
Homo

No Soup For You!

Dear Homo:
 
If your soup is cold, are you stuck with it, or do you ask the waiter to heat it up and trust no monkey business? Or am I being paranoid? Also, if the waiter disappears for most of the service so you never had a chance to order another drink or get more rolls, etc., is ten percent generous?

Signed,
Soup's On

Dear SO:

The issues you raise here are near and dear to my heart because I myself have worked as a waiter and bartender over the years. If you've never done it, I'm here to tell you that food service is one of the hardest jobs in the world. Truly. Any C-student jackass party-boy can advance to the White House (see Bush, George W.) but it takes a truly smart cookie to make a good waiter.

With those biases in mind, here's my take on your cold soup conundrum:

There is absolutely nothing wrong with sending back food when it's not prepared to your liking. You're paying good money for that soup; it should arrive nice and hot. (Unless it's vichyssoise or gazpacho, in which case sending it back will make you look dumber than W.)

But the key here is attitude. The waiter didn't prepare the soup, so it's almost never his fault when it arrives cold. Given that, when you send the soup back, show some respect and civility: "Excuse me, Sir? I hate to trouble you, but my soup is really cold. Do you think you could have the chef heat it up for me?"

I guarantee you that unless he's a total psycho, the waiter will do nothing more than apologize profusely and bring you new soup, without any kind of monkey business. (And honestly, even when customers were hideous toward me, I never fouled anyone's food or beverage. It's a really sick thing to do, and I valued my job too much in any case.)

As for the second part of your query, whether a ten percent tip is "generous" for inattentive service: No. Ten percent is never generous. But such a meager tip (or no tip at all) may be justified in certain circumstances.

Always ask yourself this: Did the waiter make a sincere effort to provide you with good service? Because maybe he did, and maybe the problem was that the restaurant was severely understaffed, and your waiter was forced to juggle too many tables. Try to assess the situation fairly, and tip accordingly.

My own rule of thumb is as follows: Good service gets a 20 percent tip. Adequate service gets 15 percent. Shitty service gets 10. And if the waiter was downright hostile, or if my soup arrived garnished with a giant loogey, no tip for you.

I hope this helps.

Just put the tip in,
Homo

Ask a Homo - Introduction

People often ask me for advice; I'm not sure why. But they seem to think I'm good at giving it. Or maybe they just sense that I am completely non-judgmental when it comes to the habits, lifestyles, foibles and filthy sexual secrets of others. And that I'll give them the most honest, objective answers I know how.

In any case, I figured what the hell, I might as well create an advice blog and see if I could parlay this little hobby of mine into a new vocation, and perhaps help some people along the way.

A few disclaimers:

Although I have an undergraduate degree in psychology, I am in no way a licensed or qualified mental health professional. I'm just a 30-something gay dude living in New York City who's had a lot of different life experiences. Nor am I a medical doctor. I'll happily give you the best advice I can, but you should consult a licensed professional for any serious or potentially life-threatening issues and take everything I tell you with a grain of salt.

You should know that anything you share with me will be kept in strictest confidence and reprinted on the blog anonymously. I will never share your email address or any other identifying information with anyone (except in the unlikely event that I am required to do so by law enforcement).

I will try to respond to as many emails as possible, and all responses will appear on this blog only.

You can submit all your questions by clicking here.

So who's first?