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I tried to make my chest seem bigger, deepened my voice and swigged my sh***y beer like I was in a square state.Alas, despite my greatest efforts, I was not a very convincing top.I had no desire to impress or pretend to be interested in anything that wasn't sleep -- or pizza, or a burrito, or both at the same time -- which is a shame, because this gentleman was like a surprisingly nice dessert section in a really bad buffet.
"The online 'bottoms' sign-up sheet was all filled up! If I wanted to sail with the boys on this gay Noah's ark, I had to maybe fib to myself a little." And look where that got me. If you learn anything from me at all, it's that you should always dress how you want to feel, not how you actually feel.By the end of the night, I had met about 16 different men, and I can tell you that the look of disappointment that flashed on their faces upon seeing me never got old.I tried my best to be my most "top" self (like trying to polish a turd, as they say)."No one here believes I'm a top," I thought to myself while taking the first sip of my second overpriced beer. " he yelled, throwing them to one side of the proverbial gymnasium. I was surprised to see that of the 30-ish men there, only three (including me) were dressed up.I was less than halfway through a night of gay speed dating for "bottoms" and "tops" and had already been asked three times if I was in the right group. You're gayer than Judy Garland's Christmas ornaments. " I eventually "lost" my name tag at some point in the night. Far too many of the men, who were essentially about to go on at least 15 first dates, were wearing T-shirts and tank tops.