Couple of weeks ago, I was at a bar to watch the Kentucky Derby. I know nothing about horse racing, but a couple of things intrigued me. A crowd gathered, pretty soon we were all trying to figure out a way to have a pool. There were about ten of us, three women, the rest guys and me, the only (apparently) gay guy.
So someone says we should each say who we are rooting for. Two of the women had no idea who was racing, knew nothing. the guys all seemed to have read up on it and had their supposedly solid reasons for picking a favorite.
When it came time for me to name whom I was rooting for, I named the black jockey, from Kenya, and the female jockey. The one woman who had read up on it let out a yelp and gave me a high five. She was rooting for the same two.
From then on, she and I were as one, chatting, going on about one thing and another. It was like we'd been friends for years. Her husband even asked what was going on between us. She told him he'd never understand and, turning her back, went right back to nattering with me. It was then that I realized she knew I was gay. Nothing said, but she knew. And because I was gay, she felt utterly relaxed and in synch with me.
After the race, as they were leaving, she gave me a big hug and whispered: "Thanks for being here. You made it worth it. Come here often?" Haven't been back since, but maybe this afternoon, the Preakness?
Now, this has nothing, on the surface, to do with GBF. But in fact, it does, for it speaks to the emotional symmetry between straight women and gay men. And why we are such a natural fit for one another.
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