Imagine that you and your significant other are with some friends at a bar just hanging out and keeping to yourselves.
Throughout the evening you notice that an attractive stranger is flirting with your partner. He’s definitely making non-verbal cues that indicate his interest. This cute, confused, misguided person then approaches your mate, chats him or her up, and offers up a phone number.
What would you do? What would you expect your partner to do?
It seems as if no matter where my partner, Brad, and I go, he gets hit on by cute guys. Me? Not so much. I’m the lonelyguy32 stuck in the corner nursing a watered-down three-lime gin and tonic while throngs of men throw themselves at my boyfriend.
OK, I’m exaggerating. But he does get hit on fairly often.
We were at a club in London during vacation and a very cute guy gave Brad the eye. You know the one. It’s a look that says “I want to get to know you better” or maybe it’s “I am really drunk, and you look like Jude Law.” It’s a fine line sometimes.
We were there with friends, and we all noticed that the man was clearly interested in Brad. I could have made it clear to the guy that Brad was taken by fawning all over my guy, or I could have given the bloke my best dirty look. I just let it go because he was amusing us.
But as we were leaving the guy made a beeline for the door and said to Brad in a to-die-for Scottish accent, “You aren’t leaving already? You’re the cutest guy in the club.”
Um, excuse me, Scotty dog–am I not standing right here, next to my boyfriend? What am I, chopped haggis?
“Yes, my boyfriend and I are taking off,” Brad said, obviously flattered.
I was jealous. Scratch that–I was not jealous. I was envious. Where was the parade of hot guys fawning all over me? It’s not that I am so narcissistic I need men falling at my feet every night. But it would be nice to get some attention.
It wasn’t just that one time, you see.
Recently, a nice–and very cute–guy at the gym gave Brad his phone number and asked him out. Brad felt bad that this man got the wrong idea from Brad’s friendly banter. Clearly this guy had been working up the nerve to ask Brad out, and he was mortified when Brad turned him down. I wasn’t there to witness this, but I heard the whole tale after the fact. The last cute guy to give me his phone number wanted me to donate money to Save the Emus or something.
I trust Brad, so it doesn’t bother me when he gets hit on. OK, maybe a little. But I know Brad won’t act on any offers. And part of me actually thinks it’s kind of hot when he gets hit on–not that I’m looking for a polyamorous relationship. But for me, it’s reaffirming to know that I’m not the only person who thinks my boyfriend is hot.
And that means I have great taste.
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BOYONBOYSTOWN@TRIBUNE.COM
