If you live in a big city like me, oftentimes you’ll find yourself at a bar flirting with a guy who’s got two full sleeves of tatts but knows all the words to Lady GaGa’s latest single. You’re about to label him a queer when he leans over and bites you on your neck, turning your knickers into panty pudding.
So you exchange numbers and plan to meet up for a drink at a very straight bar the next week. You spend way too much time and money picking out your look for the night — you even vajazzle your vagina, hoping he’ll be bedazzled enough to stick his peen in it.
But when you get there, he’s brought someone else with him: His boyfriend.
Turns out you’re on a gay date. All that time and money you wasted when you could have just stayed home in your sweats and seen more action from your Jimmy Jane vibe.
That’s why you’ve always got to assume they’re bi until you get concrete proof that goes one way or the other (and no, a dvd collection that includes Mean Girls is not “proof!”)
You can check his browser history (if Gaytube.com comes up, he’s probably not straight) and look through all his Facebook friends but the only way to really know for sure is to ask him. Of course, he could also be lying to you (and yourself) but at least you’ll get laid while he figures it out!
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