Declared involuntarily gay

Brian Eno - Oblique Strategies

• State the problem in words as clearly as possible
• Only one element of each kind
• What would your closest friend do?
• What to increase? What to reduce?
• Are there sections? Consider transitions
• Try faking it!
• Honour thy error as a hidden intention

And so arose my not-so-original idea of awkwardness. Basically the plan was to muck about the streets of Helsinki, chat up girls with strange lines and create the awkwardest of silences. Two problems immediately came to mind: First of all, I already have a habit of inducing uncomfortable silences just to appear calm and relaxed while the opposition squirms in discomfort. (Try it sometime, the personal satisfaction is immense.) So deliberately seeking to insert an awkward line wouldn't really differ from my regular approach. And secondly, to actually come up with something specific that, while being ultimately clever, would not appear lame or merely an insult to privacy, seemed an impossible task. All of this added to the fact that someone already made a whole blog about the idea, I figured I'd let it pass.

http://awkwardthingsisaytogirls.com/

I didn't let the idea of meeting new people slide, though. So I headed towards Spacestreet for the annual Christmas party, planning to make a run for the nightlife of Helsinki later. Not too long outside my house, I bumped into some girl who'd lost her way. I gave her a quick tour of the nearby surroundings, trying not to smell too much like I'd saturated myself with tequila only moments earlier. She said they were having a party nearby and I'd be welcome to join.

At this point I'd like to say I was there in a jiffy and we shagged all night. But I won't say that. Not because I don't do all-night-shags, but mainly because in actuality I completely froze, like the regular iceman I am, and failed to make the bloody initiative. A not too rare scene of me kicking myself in the head occurred later.

Spacestreet hadn't changed. While giving a mini-growth training session to Mr. Rough, I was confronted by this little woman, who was giving me an awkward face, like the face an underage kid has while approaching the store clerk with the porn magazine he knows he's not allowed to buy. I've noticed, as it would be hard not to, that this little lady is not one of the sharpest tools in the shed when it comes to reading and knowing people. So she, first politely informing that a personal question was on the way, asked me IF I'M GAY. I pondered for a sec if I could make her uncomfortable by making a witty remark at this point, but I think I just made matters worse. After a tad of WTF, mate, I told her I damn well wasn't.

Now I have nothing against gay people. I don't give a damn where peoples' sexuality lies. Except for lesbians, 'cause they're just hot. For this being gay-thing, I realized I'd never actually thought of it. I've always been attracted to tight pants, pretty faces, be it blonde or brunettes, just as long as there's a pair of tits and a woman's head to go with them. Nope, guys just haven't floated my boat. Sorry Mike.

This conversation was getting way too rough for my ego to handle. Had I really been out of contact with women for so long that people were starting to question my sexuality? I headed for the city to find a member of the prettier sex to help me correct these rather twisted ideas. And as I expected, the old Baker's was loaded.

Taking a girl home or even catching phone numbers wasn't exactly familiar territory for me, so it took me a while to get warmed up to chatting up strangers. What really boosted my confidence was this not at all ugly lady grabbing my ass on the dance floor. I danced her off to the bar and told her to chill out, 'cause that seemed to annoy her enough. I then joined two girls who seemed lonely. With the other being a bitch and the other completely canned, I had trouble finding the motivation to drag either out of the bar. I'm probably disrespecting my sovereign duty as a man when I say this, but if this is all there is to offer, these one night stands aren't really my thing.

I would have to make a return trip another day though, because the last bus would not wait. It of course filled up and took off right from under my nose and I was left to either walk or get creative. Surprisingly enough, it was Ladybird who half offered to pick me up at that point. Tempted by the thought of a warm Astra, a ride home and the cosily grouchy Ladybird, I still said no. To let her sleep for one thing, but also not to get into a situation where I'd get kinky ideas with the wrong person. I'd just been hunting for women for fuck's sake, my level of subtlety wasn't exactly at its highest. Nah. I took the night bus 45 min later.