Is it the way I dress? Talk? Do I smell funny? I’m at a loss as to how people can tell that I’m bisexual. A friend of mine told me that she’d known from the moment she met me, that I just look bisexual. I wish I had that ability: pick out a bisexual woman in a crowd, know that I won’t make her uncomfortable when I look anywhere but into her eyes. (And even that, not too often! It signify intense sexual attraction. At least from the other’s perspective.)
I was browsing Technorati’s blog directory earlier, when I came across another post on the same theme: Bisexuality and Beyond, Now you see them. The author wrote that she’d always considered herself a bisexual-bisexual woman, as opposed to “straight” and “gay” bisexuals (butch and femme). Maybe I fall somewhere in between, too: not too straight and not all that butch. I like to think I’m just me. What would be fantastic, though, would be an upgraded me with some good old-fashioned gaydar. I always thought that an icky term, but what the hell, everyone knows what it is. I just know I could get laid more often. Actually, I only hope I could get laid more often. Chances are, I’d just be slapped that much more frequently. Being a dorky bisexual doesn’t have many perks, you know. Other than a hard-won talent for ducking.
After thinking about the whole idea, I’m going to be paying a great deal more attention to how my bisexual friends talk, move, and dress, to see if there are any correlations. Who knows? I can pinpoint an asshole at a hundred yards now (without using my sense of smell, and no, this isn’t a double entendre), so perhaps I can learn to do the same thing. I do have to wonder why I’d bother, but the only answer I’d come up with is “sex”, or maybe kindred spirits. I have enough of those, however, and not all of them are gay, nor do I wish them to be. So again, I’m left with sex.
Poor me, right? The horror.
Ooh. Maybe I’ll get that sex in time for Halloween. I really would love to peel the costume off of someone this week. Here’s hoping.