i have a confession to make: i can't help it but attract more women than men.

maybe it's my character or perhaps it's just my physical appearance. either way, if i got a dime for each time a woman tries to get to know me better, i would have enough money for lunch and dinner. if i used the same ideology and applied it to the men instead, i would have enough money for a packet of tissue papers. so it sounds more profitable for this homosexual to get fresh with the ladies now, doesn't it?

but of course, this latent ability is not exactly helping when one of my main objectives in life is to attract more men than women. there are times, and perhaps just a few small inkling times when i kinda i wish that my orientation was more attuned towards the heterosexuals. for starters, i wouldn't have to worry about repealing section 377a of the penal code and its aftermath. i wouldn't have to worry that much about being HIV positive. i wouldn't have to have sex in dark alleys and corridors filled with the occasional bodily fluid. but most of all, it would be darn easy for me to get the best out of the opposite sex.

you see, i find myself very much at ease communicating and in general, being around the opposite sex. apart from dropping my pants and exposing my privates, there's very little that i can't do with the female species that i can't get away with. actually, i think i can get away with dropping my pants in front of my female colleagues at work. exposing my privates is prolly reserved for the special few. point is, i'm as smooth as a criminal when it comes to charming women. but am i interested in women? well, yes. but not in a 'let's get physical, let me hear your body talk' kinda way. the closest i can think of is prolly a Dionne Warwick kinda interest (cue harmonica opening in 'That's What Friends Are For').

when it comes to men though, i become the world's most socially-inept gay person. i hem and haw my way around the men i take a liking to or around the 'fruit tarts'. it's a silly word that stuck in my mind when i discovered that the older people used 'fruit' as a derogatory term for the homos back in the day. none the less, i say stupid things like 'spork and foon' and 'appendiciti-citis' (this happens a lot in my ward to me). this always results me wanting to bury my head in the ground when really... i would rather bury my head in the perineal area of some other hot doctor.

one perfect incident actually comes to mind whenever i talk about my dilemma of better luck with the women than men. there was this one time when i went clubbing with two gal pals, April and her uber-good friend, Gina. we were at dbl O partying our hearts out. and as much as i love partying with the girls, i always end up a bit of a loser when they get snitched up by other guys on the dancefloor. so it always ends up with me dancing with one of the girls and her behind while she is dancing with another guy who has taken an interest in her. this is when i will head to the bar, get a drink and puff away.

on this particular trip to the club, April got snitched away by some tall guy in a goatee wearing a trucker cap while i ended up dancing with Gina. after a half-hour of irritatingly bubble-gum pop tunes like Hilary Duff and Lindsay Lohan, we decided we had better start looking for April. my guess was that the guy must have plied her with enough alcohol to get her dancing to trance and techno (which all three of us seriously hated). and sure enough we found her a little tipsy, drinking up her (insert random number)th shot of Tequila with goateed trucker hat. unsurprisingly, goateed trucker was still rather rationale and clear-headed.

it was roughly 3.30am then and the party at dbl O had ended, so trucker hat offered to take all of us to the VIP lounge in MOS for more drinks. and i admit, i had quite a few drinks as well and wasn't really thinking properly. i also admit that i offered to be April and Gina's 'cock block' in case anything untoward was going to happen to then. with that, we found ourselves in MOS within a half-hour. it was there that i discovered the uncanny concoction of Chivas and green tea. i thought it was a horrid waste of good liquor and requested that they plied me with unadulterated Chivas instead. of course, with that amount of Chivas in me, it wasn't exactly easy being a 'cock block'. by then, the two girls were already fast falling asleep at the VIP lounge.

it was then that i started making conversation with another girl who was dragged into the VIP lounge by the guy who opened the bottles of Chivas and mixed it with Pokka Green Tea. maybe it was the soft lighting, or maybe it was the good conversation or maybe it was the fact that we were rather tipsy. but just as we were about to leave MOS with trucker hat who offered the girls a ride home (he didn't offer me one... chee bye), the girl pulled me aside and asked me the all-traditional local question that begins the ritual of courtship:

'Hey, can i get to know you better?'

i can't help but connect this particular question in my mind with three kids, a five-room HDB apartment, some in-laws and a hell of a boring time at the Registry of Marriages. and besides, i'm gay and she has breasts. it's okay, i'm not interested. to which i told her that and hoped that she would just leave it at that. but she just had to ask the next question of 'but, why??' which signifies rejection, being scorned and a whole lot of other negative feelings. and this is my killer line which i have only used only once on anybody till this day. do note that i was tipsy and wasn't thinking straight (not that i was ever thinking straight to begin with... but you get the point).

'Honey, i'm gay'

'Huh... you're gay ah. but you don't look like one!'

sigh, maybe it's time i started wearing sassy pink tank-tops and tight shorts that say 'you want some of this?' on the behind.

(NB: i didn't fulfil my duties as a cock block in the end. i was ego-tripping on the whole experience and a whole lot of alcohol. i let trucker hat give the girls a ride home. according to April and Gina, he tried to bring them to the nearest Hotel 81. the good thing was that April managed to muster up some vomit and threatened to vomit in the car. and for some people, Hos may come before Bros. but for others, their Hondas, come before their Hos)

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