Here's your place to come talk about sex and love whenever you feel like it.
I am super, super queer. I like other queer people. Like, in a gay way. This is not a new thing for me. I’ve wanted beautiful queer people in and around my face since I can remember. Unlike a lot of my friends who’ve known they were queer since they emerged from the womb, it’s taken me a bit longer to understand this and piece it all together for reasons that belong in an entirely different post altogether. But I’m here now, a fledgling gaybie unicorn wobbling around trying to figure out how to be gay. And it’s AMAZING.
My first thoughts after blurting out “Hey so have I told you I’m gay?” to my family and friends were these:
2. WHO IS PLANNING MY PARTY?
3. SOMEONE PLEASE POINT ME IN THE DIRECTION OF THE QUEER LADIES PLEASE.
Finding where the queer ladies tend to gather hasn’t really been difficult, because I’ve had my legion of queer fairy godmothers to lead me gayly forward on my way. Thanks for fully supporting my lesbionic West Hollywood make outs and letting me use your apartment for sex, guys! You’re the best.
But as a fledgling queer, I’m still finding my way. I don’t know how to flirt and hot girls make me extremely nervous. Not only do I have no game whatsoever, my feeble attempts at making gay eye contact make me look like the overly attached girlfriend, and I’m still figuring out who I can even attempt to approach in the first place. Like how do you know who the queer people are in the outside world? Can you just, like, ask someone if they’re gay? WHO AM I SUPPOSED TO HIT ON??
In a recent video for her YouTube channel, Hannah Hart of My Drunk Kitchen (and many, many other hilarious things) shows that the struggle is real.
It is super, super real.
I started doing yoga at a new place because I’m trying to take better care of myself and also I love butts, and there are lots of butts in yoga. I’m not a back-row creeper or anything, I’m not weird about it. I just admire from afar.
My favorite butt belongs to my favorite instructor: She’s this tall, athletic-looking girl with tattoos of assorted vegetables on her forearms and the ohm symbol on her back. She smells vaguely of weed. I saw her once at Whole Foods where she also works, but I got nervous and grabbed my overpriced to-go salad and ran away. She’s an absolute delight. And I have no idea whether she’s queer or not. Not that it’s any of my business, I don’t really need to know. But it would definitely help me clarify a few things.
First: I understand it’s her job to be nice to people, but I feel like she’s extra nice to me. She secretly lets me borrow towels for free when no one’s looking. Everyone else has to pay $3.
Second: This might sound ridiculous, and I understand it’s also her job as a yoga instructor to touch people during the class, but she touches me a lot. Like, all the time. IT’S WONDERFUL. She touches me at some point practically every time I go to her class. And not like a basic hand-on-the-shoulder type of thing, but like a full-body contact sensual embrace where she puts her hands on my low back and breathes on the back of my neck. She doesn’t touch other people! It is specifically me!
But then again, for some reason I tend to be that person that gets handled a lot by yoga teachers, probably because I look like I’m dying throughout the whole thing and need a hug.
Third: When I complimented her new hair color, there was mutual lingering eye contact. GAY LINGERING EYE CONTACT.
You guys. She’s into me. Maybe she’s not into me. But she’s adorable, seems like a sweet person, and could totally be gay. Or at least there is serious queer potential there. So do I just ask? One of several scenarios could potentially occur, for example, a) she could be not gay, and really offended, b) she could be not gay, not offended, but awkward and standoffish from that moment on, or c) she could be totally super gay!
If I employ the Hannah Hart method, the exchange might look like this:
“Hey great class today, by the way are you gay?”
“Great class, those adjustments were excellent, do you like touching girls like during your personal time?”
“Oh, you work at Whole Foods? Are you also gay?
Just throwing out some ideas.
Even if she turns out not to be queer, I still dream of us flying off into the sunset on our mats, sharing the green smoothies she bought for us using her employee discount.
I’m on Twitter.