We get a day of full, complete, unrestricted questions. There are no faux pas on _____. No hate speech, no prying questions, no manners that are too uncouth.
Two men walk into the coffee shop. Their perfect beard lines, slightly upturned chin, light prance. Excuse me sir, I have to ask..
“Why do I always see a gay couple and try to suss out who is the bottom? Is there always a bottom? Is it a perfect representation of power balance in the world when two men can fluctuate between receiving and giving cock? The purest form of sex. Completely devoid of reproductive purposes, and solely for pleasure, is butt sex between two men, right? Hear me out.
No woman can know the feeling of penetrating an orifice, only of being penetrated. Meanwhile, both men know in the deepest sense what their partner is experiencing, and vice versa. Nuts a flying in gods face, for nary one baby born.
Is this the purest form of connection in our corporeal lives?
Is there some planet deep in the vast cosmos that is all gay men, with one queen bee for reproductive purposes? A society that flourishes free from the binaries of sex.
Less confusion, less unmatched furniture sets or dirty sidewalks. No more jihads carried out in the name of the unknowable beauty of women.
The circus act men go through to attract the opposite sex. The grinding, the sacrifices of health and better judgment. We cannot help but give our energy to their beauty and poise. But guys like yourselves can live a pure existence, intertwined and aligned in pursuit of pleasure and ascension?”
“Sir, here is your 20oz Americano.”
The two men paused, looked at each other, then me, winked with a wry smile and walked on. They had an answer, but they deferred this time.
Then I saw a woman with the most beautiful butt, bright eyes, and long shiny hair walk in with a somewhat hunched, dehydrated looking man with clean shoes and a nice watch. He bought them both coffees and avocado toast (gluten free bread you idiot), and they sat by the window.
She browsed her phone in silence while he looked out on the street. Soon she picked up a call, laughing and chatting while delicately putting bread morsels in her mouth with her chicken talon nails.
She carried on for 10 minutes while our morose friend sipped his Americano, watching the cars fly by. His face remained unchanged, but I felt all of his emotions play out behind his eyes.
It could have been a first date or 10 years into a marriage, you can tell when a dynamic is written and fulfilled immediately. She is hot enough that you can provide, sit silently, and be a doting partner because her immaculate prize swings in front of you at Kroger.
Maybe behind closed doors there is real depth and nurturing? These are two evolved and highly in sync people and I’m just projecting? But I do know opposites attract. The farther apart that two humans look physically, the more that money and a perfect body can call out and find each other in the dark. The bank account fills the wine glass for the round, bouncy butt and warm eye contact in the Italian restaurant. What could be better than her smiling at you genuinely? I could just be completely jealous and making this shit up. But I do know how a woman can steal your brain function quickly.
Is there a power balance here? Is it the perfect provider, providee balance, flower and bee that we need to keep the wheels turning? Would we be consumers, builders, warriors, or just hole up in our basements masturbating if women weren’t charming us.
But instead, you just watch her talk on the phone, hear her nails click on the keyboard. Pay for it all, because you can’t stand the thought of not being near this mundane magnetism. It doesn’t make any sense rationally.
Power dynamics, sex, God, coffee shops. It’s all a wash in the end when we’re old and grey and reminiscing. The delicate dance is gone.
I’ve never had sex with a man. I’ve never walked behind a woman I’ve called my own who was blessed with ancestral perfection too pristine to not be doted on.
But you’ll never know if you don’t ask why? I’ve had a few too many Americanos. I’ve had a few too many thoughts that floated confidently into the ether without being challenged. I’ve projected my own shortcomings and insecurities on happy couples because of a jealous simmering. Is it even real? Now’s the day to ask. I walked up to the window where they sat.
“Excuse me, ma’am?”
Wanderthoughts 