We were to meet in a bar. When he stood up from his barstool and walked toward me, I thought, Gay. We moved to a couch, and he casually draped his arm around the back, behind my shoulders. I thought, Not gay.
We chatted for awhile. The conversation turned to movies, and he said one of his favorites was "Kiss of the Spider Woman," and that, in one particular scene, he admired Raul Julia's shirt. I thought, Gay. He added how sensuous Sonia Braga was in the film. I thought, Not Gay.
He excused himself to visit the men's room. I watched him walk away and thought, Gay. When he came back, he sat very close to me and touched my knee. I thought, Not Gay.
This mental vacillation went on for awhile longer, and then he drove me home. By the time he kissed me, I decided that even if he wasn't confused, I wasn't attracted to a man whose sexuality was so enigmatic.
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