there's been a horrible mistake

I met the man of my dreams last night. Tall, gorgeous, well-dressed -- he laughed at my jokes and offered to cook me dinner. He's politically like-minded, shares my taste in music, and he even lives in my neighborhood! He's perfect. I love him.

If I were a nice normal person with nice normal expectations for my life, someone more like Lauren #2 perhaps, I could expect things to work out for me and my new sexpot. As it happens, there's just no way this will work out for me. I will, in all likelihood, spend my entire life alone. Or at least not with this man, my dream man, the man I always knew I'd find since I was a little girl. How can I be so sure, you ask? Because he's gay. That's right: the man of my dreams is a gay man.

This makes perfect sense. As Lauren #2 astutely noted, I am also a gay man. Let's consider:

1. I love house music.
2. I think football is stupid.
   
3. I really enjoy stupid celebrity gossip, superlatives and the nonsensical slang used by teenagers (and gay men).
   
4. I'm outspoken and loud and always clamoring to be the center of attention.
   
5. I've got opinions like Lauren #2's got jokes.
6. I create faux drama and present it to friends/acquaintances/strangers as the actual state of affairs in my life (see: this blog).
7. My "relationships" are fleeting, highly sexual affairs void of commitment and strong feelings.

In the straight world, a person of this description is considered an incurable failure. In the gay world, this is standard operating procedure. So I'm either the hollow shell of a straight female or the queen of the male gay community.

It would make a lot of sense for me to be a "fruit fly," but I am not, generally speaking. I try not to identify myself as a man's pathetic cling-on, especially a man who can never learn to love me (give up the dream, girls). But I can still have crushes on gay men.

Argh! Clearly there's been a mistake. My friend's new boy-toy really should be straight.

Apparently the Universe got jokes, too.