Slightly off the topic a bit, but screw it, I tell this story to everyone. I once went to this gay pub in Melbourne, with my then girlfriend, her mates, and the one gay person I actually knew. I'm still not sure why we went there, apparently cheap beers or something, but yeah. Anyway, the friend tells me and the girlfriend not to do the kissing and holding, because it's like an insult inside the pub, because they arent allowed to do it outside, so we cant do it inside. Now I'd like to think I'm pretty cool and accepting, but this was the test where I failed my homophobia. No crap, I was shitting myself, I picked the table in a far dark corner, chose the seat with my back to the wall and sat there, refusing to make eye contact with anyone there, just studying the table. I mean, old mate needn't of bothered with the "no hetro pda" speech, cause I was a farkin statue.
Anyway, after what seemed like 8 million years, my mate says, "hey, wanna help me get the drinks?". I immediately regreted my decision of picking the table furtherest from the bar, and directly across the dance floor. I gave my girlfriend a wretched "please. Please save me" look, and she gave me a "I'm dumping you in two weeks, so go f yourself" look back, which really should have been a warning sign for me, if I wasn't currently pre-occupied with trying not to catch gay.
So, we stroll across to the bar, trying to look not gay. Which for me meant staring at my feet the whole way. On the way had to take a detour around some guy who was just fascinated with the disco ball. Get to the bar, order the drinks in my gruffest hetro voice ever while still trying to look "I'm cool, gay people are my friends, nobody hit on me". Anyway, we get back, taking the same detour around disco ball guy - seriously wtf was so fascinating about the damned ball? - and back to the table where I firmly sat, back to the wall.
Anyway, everybody went off and danced except me, and I made sure someone was sitting with me the whole time, even if it was my gay mate, cause I was so sure that if I was left alone for even a second, someone would try to pick me up. Well he got bored, and took off to the dance floor too, leaving me all alone and very scared. But after about 10 minutes of not one person approaching me, my attitude changed from "ohnoImgoingtobesomebodysbitchnonono" to "hey..wtf...nobodies trying to hit on me!". Yep, took all of 10 minutes before my ego took over and demanded answers, particularly the "uh...Im not pretty enough to be gay?" question. I left the table, sat up at the bar (ego still in control) and still didn't get hit on. Not even an interested look.
I gave up, I couldnt figure it out. All the myths I ever heard about gay people were they would dry hump your leg if you gave them half a chance, dont even tempt them by turning your back on them. But it was all bs, they were respectful, interested in picking up other gay people, but not interested in trying it on with the straight guys. I ended up having a good night, wasnt 100% comfortable, but it didnt turn out to be the sheer hell I thought it was. Never went back though, partly cause it was a gay club, but mainly cause I felt so insulted that not one person tried to pick me up that I never wanted to go back to the scene where my ego was killed.
So you ask if I get grossed out by public displays of affection? No, I dont, cause gay people are bastards who clearly think I'm ugly.
