The guys have the cool clothes, the cool clubs and the cool part of any given queer city. I want to be a gay man. No, seriously, I think I really do want to be a gay man.

I think it all started when I realized I’d never really be accepted as a lesbian. When I go to a dyke bar, the bouncers tell me what type of bar it is while they check my ID. This has happened twice. Both times I wanted to just walk away and go home.

When I’m in a dyke bar I’m assumed to be straight and there with lesbian friends, bi and looking for a threesome, bi and looking to break some poor lesbian’s heart or lost. That’s before anyone knows anything about me. After five minutes or so of speaking to me and finding out that my interest is in queer masculine energy, I’m then either afraid of “real men” or get to listen to the If I wanted to be with someone who looked like a man bullshit.

More gay men than lesbians (with whom it’s definitely my job since I’m assumed to be straight) kiss me. I have a far better time around gay men. For a short time I was going to date gay men, like that would have worked (maybe if we made a rule that we would always keep our pants on).

Why can’t I have a 429 shirt that accentuates the my physique? It’s not fair.