The Great Gatsby

So, there I am at The Great Gatsby over the weekend (which I absolutely adored!), my date a wonderful woman. Next to us are two women, thirtyish, both excited about seeing it. In front of us, a couple, mid-twenties. To my side, another couple, also mid-twenties. Place jammed, sold out. Women making up, easily, 65/70% of the audience.

As the film goes on, the guy in front of us starts squirming, he's bored, growing more so. To my right, same thing, the guy is bored and annoyed. The two women to our left, utterly enchanted. As it ends, the two guys are up and out of there, disgusted, dragging their wives/GFs. My friend and I both start saying how we loved it, everything worked, on and on. The two women to our left agree, saying how smart they were in not making their husbands come. 

One of them says how lucky my friend is that her husband actually likes such as Gatsby. My friend never misses a beat, says I'm not her husband, just her best friend. 

A couple of beats, silence.

Then the two women both clap with delight. "You're gay, aren't you?" I nod and one of the women asks my friend: "Like, him, he's a GBF?" My friend takes my hand in hers as an answer. Both women tell my friend how lucky she is, and wonder just how they might go about meeting gay men for outings such as Gatsby.

Point of this post is to show just how mainstream has become the whole Gay Best Friend phenomenon. These two women, both married, were fully aware of the straight woman/GBF juggernaut; aware of it and envious and willing to pursue it. They weren't looking at me as a gay trophy, gay adornment, but as a good friend whose interests were more closely aligned with theirs, women's.

Our exchange continued as we left and went out onto 68th Street, both women wished us great good fortune.

GBF just keeps rolling along.