Masculinity & Me

The other day a friend and I ventured out to see the new Batman movie. After negotiating through long ticket lines and promising the soul of my first born child for over-salted popcorn and a giant cup of ice colored with a splash of Coke, we found our way to the back of a very crowded theatre. Being opening weekend, even our Sunday matinee was jammed, leaving very few available seats. Finally, we secured two spaces in the very last row of theatre, and as I began to make myself comfortable, I noticed the two guys in front of us were sitting with a seat in-between them.

By the way they were talking and joking with one another, it was obvious they were at the movie together. Cloaked in camouflage shorts and “The South’s Gonna do it Again” t-shirts, they were dressed as if they had confused this mega-plex movie theatre with a gun show or some type of convention where one buys fishing tackle while hating black people.

Watching as families and couples searched desperately from the front of the theatre for adjoining seats, I leaned over to my friend Jason and asked, “Why won’t these guys just sit together?” Without a moment’s hesitation he looked at me and sagely explained “Because that would be gay.”

Ah, yes, of course, the old “that would be gay” stream of logic.

If you are unfamiliar with this train of thought, just ask your closest straight, guy friend. For many of them, much of their lives are dictated by avoiding that which would be gay. Now while this might sound homophobic and asinine, I assure you it is. But it is also more complicated than it seems. You see, straight men’s avoidance of that which would be gay has little to do with sexuality and is more a question of masculinity. In the world of the hip, where men can carry satchels, gel their hair, and appreciate Tori Amos and yet still dig chicks, men must adopt new mediums to express their manliness.

A great example of this phenomenon is the politics and negotiations of the men’s room. While women travel to the bathroom in clans and have no problem painting each other’s nails as they pee, it is a solitary experience for a man. Small cramped bathrooms are the worst. If there is a line, where do you stand? Where do you look? What kind of small talk is appropriate when other men are holding their penises? Do real men wash their hands? And if so do they use soap? The questions abound!

Now, I will admit I may be a little more paranoid about this issue than most. You see, I often find myself insufficiently masculine. When surrounded by a group of “guy’s guys” I never know what to do. I feel as if there is a secret language or understood behavior that I somehow missed learning during adolescence. I think it might have been covered during 7th grade gym when I sat out because I had a note from my mom explaining my skin’s sensitivity to sweat. Or maybe it was during recess when the other boys played “run around and beat the shit out of each other”, while I was sitting under a tree reading Are You there God? It’s Me, Margaret.

Regardless of when it happened, I am clearly missing something.

For instance, I went out the other day for some drinks with my boss and an enclave of all male co-workers. The conversation snaked through topics such as Bret Favre’s still undecided fate with the Green Bay Packers, the recent NBA draft, and everyone’s speculations about the upcoming college football season. I of course sat silent. Downing my Chardonnay and thinking I needed to start recording Sports Center, the conversation suddenly took a turn for the better. My boss asked if anyone watched Big Brother and how they felt about the dramatic events of the past few weeks. Yes, finally something I could talk about: reality TV! Waiting patiently for an appropriate pause in the conversation, I pounced on my opportunity. With my best attempt at a deep voice, I added, “Oh yeah. And did y’all catch this week’s Project Runway? Can you believe Wesley tried to make that dress with that tacky brown Satin?”

Silence.

Ok, so I admit, a show about fashion designers might not be the archetype of masculinity. But who knew it was acceptable to discuss a show were a bunch of shirtless pretty boys sit around and gossip all day and then sleep in the same room, but Heidi Klum and a bunch of half naked female models, that’s gay! You see what I mean? There is no way this is a instinctive understanding that all men share; there must have been a class!

I like to think I am getting better though. Just the other day I spent all day swishing my toes within my shoes because they would not stop itching. When I got home and took off my socks, I discovered some type of bubbly fungus in the crevices of my feet. My mind immediately leaping to rare foot cancers or bird flu, I insisted my fiancé come into the bathroom and examine my feet. After only a passing glance, she began to giggle and told me to relax. “It’s only Athlete’s Foot” she said.

That’s right ladies and gentleman, Athlete’s Foot…..You can’t get any more masculine than that!

If A is equal to B and B is equal to C, that meant I could only contract Athlete’s Foot if I am…..that’s right, a mother fucking athlete! Who’s afraid to climb the rope in gym class because it gives him a funny feeling in his stomach now?

I am finally a man.