Belly Aching

Dear Homo,

As straight women, my friends and I often lament that while gay men keep their abs in decent shape, not nearly as many hetero guys seem to feel that need. Why is that? And is there anything that can be done about the situation?

Signed,
Craving a Six-Pack


Dear CASP,

I hate to keep referencing "Sex and the City" lest I be regarded as a one-trick homo. But just as Muslims turn to the Koran, Jews turn to the Torah, and Christians turn to country music, Homo turns to SATC for wisdom, guidance and inspiration -- and finds it once again.

Case in point, Season Four's "All That Glitters," in which Carrie and the girls spend a night out a fictional gay club called Trade. Ogling all the hot male flesh around them, Miranda essentially asks the same question as yours: "Why don't straight men have bodies like this?"

To which Carrie replies: "Because gay men have the possibility of sex at the gym. If straight men had that, they'd be working out all the time, too."

Carrie's right, of course, but that's only part of the equation.

First, allow me to set you straight, so to speak, on one point: Not all gay men have great abs. Indeed, gay men come in all different shapes and sizes. In fact there's an entire sub-community of gay men -- the bears -- who like keeping their bellies full and natural looking. And it is, after all, natural for a man's belly to expand over time, just as natural breasts on a woman (and not a few men) will eventually sag.

But I do think we're safe in assuming that the average gay man is more body-conscious than the average straight man. There are myriad sociological, psychological and sexological reasons for this, but I'll save time and break it down to basics:

1) Men -- all men -- are visually oriented and tend to objectify whatever it is that turns us on. Hence the intense historical pressure on women to stay thin and beautiful.

2) Gay men are particularly concerned with aesthetics and like to surround ourselves with beauty and perfection. See Buonarroti, Michelangelo and Mackie, Bob.

3) Gay men are less likely to have spouses and children than straight men and thus have more free time to work out.

But times, CASP, they are a changin'. Historically, our bodies were one way we gay guys could easily spot one another, much as Dr. Seuss's Star-Belly Sneetches could distinguish themselves from their Plain-Belly brethren. Then, nearly 20 years ago, everything shifted.

In 1991, a gay designer named Calvin Klein teamed up with a straight rapper-turned-model named Marky Mark in a pair of white boxer-briefs. Suddenly, the male body, in all its muscular glory, was objectified before a mass market. Straight women worldwide proclaimed, "That's what I want!" Straight men worldwide proclaimed, "I better hit the gym!" Gay men worldwide suddenly developed a taste for rap music. And lesbians worldwide played golf.

Since then, a cultural movement has occurred in which hordes of straight men have become increasingly concerned with their appearance. For a time such men were labeled, rather pejoratively, as "metrosexual." Now they're pretty much mainstream. (Witness, for example, the phenomenon that is "Jersey Shore," with its overly coiffed, frighteningly tanned, juiced-up specimens of manhood. One can practically smell the mixture of hair gel and cologne wafting through one's television set.)

All of which is to say, CASP, that it shouldn't be too hard for you and your female cohorts to find straight guys with killer abs nowadays. Vanity and body obsession, it seems, are not just for women and gays anymore. The question you may have to ask yourselves, though, is whether or not that's a good thing.

Doing Crunches as We Speak,
Homo

Don't You Want Me, Baby?

Dear Homo (or may I call you "Mo?"),

I went out with a really great guy a few days ago (a first date). We had a dinner that lasted almost two hours because we had great conversation and got to know more about each other. We then came back to my house and continued talking about various likes/dislikes, etc. Everything remained on a non-sexual level, but the conversation seemed to flow very well, and we both seemed interested in learning more about the other person. It was getting late, and we both had to be at work early the next day. 

As he left, we had a nice good-night kiss, and I stated I would really like to get together again sometime. He responded, "Sure, let's get together again". 

Since then, he has initiated no communication. He has responded to text messages that have gone back and forth with, but he has not called me back. We both have rather demanding and busy jobs, so it's not like I expected him to call the next morning and want to go out that next night. But it has been well over a week, and I'm starting to sense he "is just not that into me." So the question is, should I just ask if he actually is interested in getting together again, or should I accept his apparent lack of interest and move on?
 
Signed,
Homo Alone

Dear HA,

Sure -- call me "Mo." I'm sure I have at least one Jewish great-uncle by that name.

The obvious point of reference here (and it seems to be on your mind already) is the classic "He's Just Not That Into You" episode of "Sex and the City," the theme of which was eventually turned into a best-selling self-help book and a hit chick-flick so absurd that it actually ended with Jennifer Aniston happily married. (It would have been more believable had she turned into a Transformer.)

To briefly recap the original premise: Miranda goes on what she thinks is a good date, which ends with the guy turning down an invitation to come up to her apartment. She expects the guy to call and is perplexed when he doesn't. When she recounts this story to Carrie and her new boyfriend, Berger, he proclaims, "He's just not that into you."

"If he's into you," Berger explains, "he's coming up, meeting or no meeting. He's booking the next date."

 

But HA, your situation is a bit different, as the guy DID come back to your house after dinner. Actually, it's another episode of SATC altogether that your date calls to mind: "Are We Sluts?"

In that one, you may recall, Carrie wonders why Aidan, whom she's been dating for a week and a half, won't have sex with her. Samantha warns Carrie that if she doesn't get Aidan into bed soon, she'll wind up in the dreaded "friend zone," in which Aidan will never regard her as a sexual being.

When it comes to gay men, HA, my personal answer to Carrie's question is: "Yes; we are sluts." 

Which is not to say that two gay men can't go on a first date without winding up in the sack (or the sac). But if I am truly attracted to a guy, and he is attracted to me, and we go on a good date together, things are not going to remain on a "non-sexual level" for very long. There's a palpable hunger for the other person that usually leads to a lot of sweaty groping or more. At the very least, I'm going to try for more than just a "nice good-night kiss," and I'm definitely going to plan a future sexcapade.

To be completely honest, it seems like you entered the friend zone immediately and that perhaps you and your date learned too much about each other too soon. Talking about your likes and dislikes doesn't sound romantic or flirtatious or sexy to me; it sounds like the kind of conversation one has with a coworker. 

"Oh, you got beets in your salad? I hate beets."

"Really? I LOVE beets!"

Stop, I'm getting hard.

Should you ask if he's interested in getting together again? Sure -- it's never a bad idea to put it out there, express yourself honestly and ask for an honest answer. But be prepared for the fact that you may have already gotten his answer. The bottom line is, men pursue the ones we want and don't pursue the ones we don't. Which may not be as catchy a phrase as "He's Just Not That Into You," but that's why SATC writer Greg Behrendt wound up with his own talk show and I'm writing a blog that's read by five people.

I hope this helps.

Manolos forever,
Homo