Dear Straight Men in Bathrooms at Bars,
Could you chill the fuck out please? Because I am so sick of this shit, it isn’t even funny. Let me explain to you some things.
Trying to engage in funny business in the grimy, grungy bathroom of a bar is not among the list of things that turns me on. Believe me, the list of things that turn me on is long and DISGUSTING, but that isn’t on it. Funny business with a balding dude named “Dusty Dan” in the bathroom of a Joann’s Fabrics, however, is definitely on that list. Also not on the list? Sexual harassment. Stop worrying about it. No, I’m not trying to “sneak a peek,” and no, I’m not going to suddenly be sucking your dick if you make the commonplace fool’s mistake of standing at the urinal next to me.
Have you heard of something called the internet? It’s this amazing thing that people mostly use for one of two reasons: sharing misspelled political memes on Facebook, and looking at porn. So, I promise you, if I wanted to to look at a dick, I’ve got options. Options that don’t involve urinal cakes and the hoping the puddle you stepped over was a spilled drink. If there’s one thing that gets me going, it’s not being anywhere near a urinal cake. Jesus Christ, nothing is sexier than being away from a urinal cake.
Look, not every guy does this to me. In fact, I am happy to say ninety-nine percent of the men I’ve come into contact with in bathrooms at bars have not had a problem with me being gay, have not even noticed that I am gay because they are there to use the goddamn bathroom. That’s how it should be, and usually, that’s how it is. And I live in Oklahoma. I think it says something about the general mindset of straight guys that even in this southern knock-off of a state, most straight guys don’t care. Several of my best friends are straight guys, and they aren’t worried about taking off their shirt in front of me or pissing next to me or sitting down next to me, because they are my friends and they know that “gay” is not synonymous with rape.
So, this isn’t a letter to all straight guys. Just to the weird fucks I encounter every so often who stand outside the bathroom door at my favorite local college bar, pronouncing loudly to his friends that,”I ain’t fuckin’ going in there. Dude’s gay. What if he tries to look at me?” This is to you dear sir, you know who you are.
I always wonder, where does this nonsense come from? Is it because the kind of guy who is afraid a gay guy will not be able to resist temptation is also kind of a gross pervert himself who would not be able to resist temptation if he had to pee next to a girl? I’m not saying that it’s that, but I’m not saying that it’s not that either.
Is it, as is often claimed, that these homophobes who are so hyper-paranoid of gays, are this way because they themselves are gay? And so they lash out at the imagined prospect of homosexual interactions that, on some level, they themselves yearn for? I’m not saying it’s that either, but I’m not saying it’s not that.
Is it because these dudes are just that narcissistic that they think anyone who is attracted to men will not be capable of controlling himself when faced with the prospect of their magnificent, golden dongs? Once again, I’m not saying it’s that, but I’m not saying it’s not that either.
Listen, if you’re a disgusting person who is interested in invading someone’s personal space in the bathroom, that’s between you and the list you will someday end up on. Not every gay guy is like you. I’m not going to lie, there are predatory gay guys, just like there are gay guys with blonde hair and gay guys with eczema. It happens. Unfortunately, gay guys who focus on straight guys are often vocal in their pursuit of them, making it seem that all gay guys are like this. We are not, and I promise you, predatory gay guys who pride themselves on “turning” straight guys are not the pride of our pack. But don’t assume I’m one of them. They are the minority.
If you’re a straight guy internally fighting doubt that you might not actually be straight, I am so sorry. I’m sure that’s incredibly difficult, and I wish you the best in your journey to find yourself. Just a little tip, don’t go looking for yourself in bathrooms at bars. And until you find yourself, don’t put your shit on me. Your hangups are your own.
If you’re the kind of douche who is so self-involved that you think you’re God’s gift to dicks, I have to say congratulations on your self-confidence. It’s amazing that you are so secure in the star-quality of your penis. Also, I have to say: get serious. I bet it looks like a mushroom growing in high grass. But you know what? I don’t want to find out.
I am tired of feeling shitty about myself because of your own internalized shittiness. Quit putting your shit on me! I just want to have good nights out with my friends, not go tricking for strange in the dingy bathroom of a dive bar. I am tired of not saying anything because I don’t want to cause a scene, and I’m tired of talking to my friends later on about how this ruined my evening because I’m tired of the evening being about me being gay. But it’s not about me being gay, it’s about you being a slack-jawed blackhead of a human being and punishing others because of it.
So, I’m going to say this, once and for all, I’m going to make you this promise: I solemnly swear, on Britney Spears and the entire store Express, that I will not, now or ever, rape you in the bathroom at a bar.
But watch out for the bathroom at Joann’s Fabrics. I make no promises there.