Tall tales

Do I really stand out that much?

The other night while dining out, Mitch asked me if I was aware of how everyone looks at me. Huh? No, I told him; with a few exceptions, I am not aware of anyone looking at me at all.

He was surprised. He told me that when we are out together he notices a lot of people looking at me. He said the same thing today over breakfast.

Okay, I am pretty tall. Being six feet, five inches (last time I checked) definitely gets attention. If I get separated from a friend in a crowd, I usually let them find me, since I tend to stand out. But I certainly wasn't aware that I am really drawing attention.

There are exceptions of course. For example, last night's underwear party at Pumpjack had such poor participation that I was one of the few men in the bar who wasn't fully clothed. Naturally people were paying attention then (especially given my provocative undies).

But Mitch (who wasn't even at that party) went so far as to say he felt overshadowed and ignored by other gay men because everyone is looking at me. This saddened me, and reminded me of similar things I had heard from a past partner. But at least Mitch takes it in stride and (so far) feels glad to be with someone who is getting attention.

Me, I don't get it. Okay, I am tall. But I'm 52 years old, hardly the age considered prime. And although I'm proud of the figure I've acquired, my ectomorphic proportions are not those considered sexy in the porn magazines or usual gay stereotypes. Strange.

But hey, I guess I should take it as a compliment. Because of course people also stare at things they consider odd.

This is just one way in which Mitch has been so good for my ego. Another example: He also has been giving me mock scoldings for moving in a way that lifts my shirt to reveal my flat tummy (like in this photo) or unintentionally flexing my arms, getting him hot and bothered. Everyone needs a friend like that to boost the ego now and then.