My gaydar sucks!

Another weekend, another set of bars to hang out at. All of them are in Bandra (except on the off chance I get a ride up to Phoenix to hang out at the Sports Bar there). The reason being my lack of enthu to get to Bandra station, stand in a queue for G-d knows how long, dodge the limbless man, oozing wounds man and disfigured leper at the ticket counter and then head to town in my dhinchak club wear. I simply can't be bothered anymore. How much easier to just walk down to the neighborhood bar (the one where they all know your name..Cheers? No, I think it's Totos!)

Anyway, was at Seijo with les fiances S. (S & S...like my favourite deli in Inman Square, these are my 2 favourite people to hang out with...now that Meenu is leaving me for Ammrikka!). I figured it's just a few beers with the str8 folk anyway so as usual I was totally not prepared to be flirty, interesting or fun. Yes, I am fake enough and cynical enough that I have to be in the mood to flirt nowdays. However, S. kept pointing out these hotties (where have they been the whole time?) who kept walking in and out of Seijo and asking me if I thought they were cute/hot/father-of-my-kids type. And that's when I realized I have abyssmal gaydar. Honestly, my str8 friends have better 'dar than I do. And that scares and appalls me..seeing as I probably passed on several glances, flirts and hints from the possible loves of my life (Why am I sounding like Jack from Will & Grace?). I mean honestly, the only way I know someone is gay is if he comes up to me and is downright blatant "Hello Baby, do you want to do body sex with me?"

Anyway, I tried yesterday with a little help from my friends to identify the gay men at the bar. 3 of them were too easy. One uber-closet case ("Don't talk to me at the bar.. people will think I'm gay".. HELLO! You couldn't get gayer if you were wearing a tutu!), one druggie and one "artiste". Then came the tough part. Identified 3 candidates to analyze (this was the point when the lack of dinner and the 3 beers started taking hold). And these are the points why I think these guys might be ...er... the only gay in the village.

1. L.L. Cool Gay : (Nickname assigned by Sanj.)

• Came to bar with 4 women
• Dressed better than any of them
• Danced with hands held above head thus exposing taut midriff (and creating mini-boner in the Vikster's pants)
  
• Drank a Bacardi Breeze while the women chugged their beers
• WAY too much bling on his wrists
• Nice shoes
• Took pictures of himself with his cellphone (Come into my arms Vain Man!)
  

2. Model-Shodel Boy : (Punju-Shanju Guy-Wuy drinking-winking at Seijo-Weijo)

• Pants were WAY too tight (Bonus points for the nice ass though!)
• Tattoo of butterfly on beautifully sculpted upper arm (WTF?)
• Sonu Nigam style bonded and highlighted hair (Gross! He looks like one of those mofussil-type Indian Idol wannabes with that hair!)
• Drank Bacardi Breeze (again?)
• Bopped around waving ciggie in air and was actually pouting! (Isn't that the exclusive prerogative of gay men? For reference: Check out Rahul Bose in the new watch commercial..)

3. Bank on me Man : (Vij, he looks just like what I think our friend - the dog lover looks like)

• Fantastic clothes (then again, he probably just got out of work as an investment banker/stock broker/model for Amarsons)
• Drinking a beer and standing at the bar just looking around
• Nice watch, nice shoes
  
• Pleated pants? Say what? (Who even wears these nowdays? Besides Bhaiyyas from UP?)
• Began dancing only when the Madonna remix came on

So these were my three victims last night. Of course, being true to form, I just stood there drinking my Kingfisher observing. I considered smiling at them but then I remembered the geisha Mameha's advice to the maiko Nita Sayuri. The one where she teaches her to floor a man with only one glance and not a word. I'm aiming to try this method out for a month. Let's see how it goes!
Anyway, I tried my best to figure out just which of these 3 believed in the love that dare not speaks it's name. And I failed miserably. I had 15 minutes to analyze all 3 individually and these were the only points I figured out. And they all went back with a woman. (Then again, that need not necesarily mean anything...I alwyas leave clubs/bars with a woman. Heck, I even leave GB parties with a woman..or someone sufficiently post-op to count).

Lack of Radar destroyed Atlantic shipping in 1916. Lack of Gaydar destroys Vikster in 2006.

Current Music:
Russian Waltz - Shostakovich

My favourite waltz ever. It fits somehow that I'm listening to it .. seeing as I'm reading a book on Stalin and this waltz is by Stalin's favourite composer. I love how he uses Russian folk elements in this waltz. Two manicured thumbs up.