There is a myriad of fan clubs out there. Some we strive to be a part of, others we abhor. I have a few that are a constant in my universe. Some you slip into because you find your niche.
My preferred niche has always been gay men. Yes, I proudly admit to being a fag hag. Whether it is proclaiming my most favorite movie ever is Priscilla, Queen of the Desert (and thereby subjecting straight boyfriends to watching it under duress) or the fact that I feel incredibly lost with my bestest gay pals being 2,000 miles away, I am a true rainbow hag.
Obviously, my favorite fan club is the land of gay men. To me, it all centers around acceptance. In many aspects, gay men are still viewed as outsiders themselves and as such I have felt most welcome and valued among my (obviously) favorite fan club. My bestest gay pals accept my sense of style and truly accept me. This level of acceptance is something that I have never felt from other women. Typically, other women view as the interloper, the competition, the outsider due to my outward appearance. However, things are very different in Austin. Instead of being subjected to the usual woman cattiness, women here accept me as I am. It has been a wonderful breath of hope that has truly changed my life.
So while the two outer limits of my life have been swapped, there are other changes in my various other fan clubs. Primarily, the male based arena. While The Southern Gentleman is still looming out there with great force, my other boy fan clubs are diametrically opposed. There is the would-never-date-you-but-enjoy-your-fawning-over-me fan club, also known as the Stroke My Ego fan base. Needless to say, I enjoy this particular club immensely. And then there is the dreaded, oh-my-dear-god-get-away-from-me-you-freak, also known as don’t-mistake-my good-manners-for-encouragement, but I most often refer to it as my Glowing Green Loser Magnet (with my finger and my thumb in the shape of an “L” on my forehead) fan base.
Like any girl, my primary Stroke My Ego fan was always a highlight I could count on much like the postman delivering regardless of sunshine or hail storms. I enjoyed watching his eyes light up like a dried out Christmas tree in March that fell victim to a stray flame. Always the unspoken adoration I needed during this desert of a dry spell I’ve been on out here. He is totally not my type but I did live to be atop the pedestal; until he found himself a girlfriend. The usual cheerful hug I’d receive upon walking in the door has been replaced with a handshake. A handshake! For Pete’s sake! Eye lights only flicker with half a flame and insecure girlfriend is glued to his side. My Stroke My Ego fan base has officially dried up out here. Boo hoo!
But the Glowing Green Loser Magnet fan base is alive and well; thriving in fact. What a sorry state of affairs. While I strongly adhere to the code of dating karma, I have had to begin leaving a hunk of my politeness at the door because the GGLM has been working overtime. Just thinking about my last few encounters is making me nauseous. Seriously. Guess I won’t be sharing them. Just imagine your worst stop-hitting-on-me-freak encounter ever, multiply it by 750 and you have my run-ins of late.
Hopefully one day each of the boys occupying the GGLM fan club will find some lonely girl out there who overlook his inner loser and adore his freaky ass persistence. I would not complain if this fan club dried up too.