“The difference between a straight guy and a gay guy,” I was once reliably informed by the owner of a London all-male m*sturbation club, “is about two pints.”
I was drinking my third pint at the time.
An awful lot of people think I’m gay. By which I mean an awful lot of people think the only reason anyone would ever write about sexuality is because they’re gay.
“Why do you give a shit?” asked a gay pop star I was interviewing for an NME article about homophobia—shortly after my then-girlfriend brought him a cup of tea and some digestive cookies.
Then again, an awful lot of people think I’m straight. I’m married to a woman. I shop at the Gap. Most of the people I’ve ever had sex with have been female. Most of the people I’ve ever seen on the street who’ve made my eyes bulge out on stalks and my drooling tongue fall out of my mouth and my cartoon heart pound like a jackhammer have been female. And when (for research purposes) I look at straight porn, I probably spend more time looking at the females than I do the ubiquitous, enormous, r*ck-hard c*cks.
So I guess that makes me straight. Straighter than I was at 16. But, just for the record—to paraphrase that quintessential bet-hedging sexual toe-dipper Katy Perry—I have kissed a boy, and I liked it.
sure, i've had fun kissing girls (thanks to $5 pitchers of beer at McGillins, and the fact that i have some hot lady friends), but that doesn't mean i'm bi. ... does it?
and i know sexuality is a spectrum, and for some people it's fluid, especially for women -- yet i never have been able to wrap my brain around bisexuality.