Gay or Straight? Part II: The District Attorney

This is the second part of my "Gay or Straight?" series, which explores the group of sexually ambiguous men who have befriended me over the last couple years. 

I will update each story as it develops over time. 

My goal is to get past the mixed signals that these guys unconsciously throw out and determine once and for all who's straight and who's gay. 

Perhaps you can help me solve these puzzles.

Day 1

One of the personal trainers at my gym always stops and talks with me when I roll in there from work.  After finding out that I'm a lawyer, he began hounding me about meeting one of the assistant district attorneys (DA) who works out at the gym. 

I don't know why he wanted to introduce us so badly. 

I guess he figured that because we're both lawyers, we need to be buddies or something. 

Eventually, the trainer linked Duke (the DA) and I up. 

I'd noticed Duke in the gym before -- the boyish-looking thirty-one-year-old from the halls of justice always wore an IPOD and headphones and never made eye contact or spoke with anyone. 

As Duke was only five-foot-eight, I towered over him. 

Duke's pale skin, long eyelashes, and black, curly locks projected the image of a guy with an innocent demeanor. 

I assumed he was shy and soft-spoken. 

I couldn't have been more wrong. 

When he introduced himself to me for the first time, his small-town accent hit me like a sack of bricks and totally shattered the image I'd drawn up of him. 

In three minutes of conversation, he said "f*ck" and "sh*t" at least five times each.  I imagined that the twang in his voice annoyed some of the jurors he argues in front of every day; other jurors probably identified with him and his small-town roots. 

I learned from our brief conversation that Duke was from a town of 3,500 people and played baseball for community college for two years before finishing up at a four-year college.  After law school, he worked in a two-man DA's office in a hick town two hundred miles away from the nearest city.  He'd only been in the metroplex for ten months, about the same length of time that I'd been here. 

Duke was cocky as hell, just like many good DAs are.  I figured that he was probably pretty good at his job too.

Duke suggested that we grab a beer sometime after work.  He told me that he "liked to go hunting for p*ssy at one of the bars downtown."  We agreed to meet on Friday for beers.

In the interim, my grandmother died, and I returned home for her funeral, so we never ended up meeting that Friday for drinks.

At this point, I didn't suspect that Duke was gay. 

On the contrary, he reminded me of the prejudiced rednecks I was friends with in highschool, and I hesitated in accepting his offer because I was unsure of how he'd react when he eventually found out I liked guys. 

Still, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, and I was fairly new to the city and wanted to meet some other attorneys.

So I said yes. 

We traded numbers and agreed to meet after work on Friday for drinks.

Day 22

Right after I met Duke, I had to return home for my

Instead, three weeks after I first spoke with the redneck District Attorney, we finally linked up for a night on the town.  While I was wrapping up my Friday afternoon at the office, Duke sent me an email:

Ready to find some p*ssy tonight? 

I didn't respond, and just sent him a text message when I left the office telling him that I'd pick him up at 8:00 p.m.

I wasn't very excited about going out with Duke, and tried to think of excuses to cancel, but I came up short and ultimately decided to tough it out.

At 8:00 p.m., I rolled into Duke's apartment complex and gave him a call.  He walked up to my car a few minutes later with a stylish, pinstriped button-down shirt, slacks, and slicked back hair. 

Most straight guys from small towns like where he was from had no idea how to dress . . . and again, I wondered if Duke might be gay.

Despite our dapper attire, Duke and I decided to hit a karaoke dive bar full of college students, rednecks, and white trash. 

The bar was pretty much dead, and full of rank, cheap smoke, but we had fun sharing stories about our trial experiences, law school, and ex girlfriends.  I maintained my "straightness" well.

At 10:00 p.m., we drove over to this new, supposedly hip club that'd opened while I was gone for the funeral. 

The newness of the two story club had worn off, but it was still packed. 

With our slacks and dress shirts, we fit in much better there than at the karaoke smoke pit.  Attractive girls with sun dresses and short skirts leaned over the bar trying to get the overworked bartender's attention.  Guidos with beer bellies, untucked button-downs, and fat wallets lined the walls searching for their prey.  Hot, young guys ran around trying to compete with the rich guidos for the ladies' attentions.  A handful of professional basketball players downed mixed drinks at a VIP table upstairs. 

In essence, the bar was hopping, and Duke seemed to be in heaven.

I was almost a half-foot taller than Duke, and we looked like an odd pair weaving through the crowd.

Surprisingly, despite all of Duke's shit-talking about "getting some pussy," he was completely shy and unwilling to approach anyone. 

He had no problem pointing out all of the "sluts" (his term, not mine) who looked at us, but he never had the courage to actually speak to any of them.

At 1:00 a.m., we left the club, having spoken to no one. 

Duke, who'd drank less than me, drove my car to his apartment. 

He asked me if I was sober enough to make the drive home or if I needed to crash at his place. 

At this point, any attraction I had to Duke was fading quickly, but my curiosity about Duke's sexuality was at an all-time high.  That, coupled with the fact that I really wasn't in good enough shape to drive home, spurred my decision to crash at his place.

Duke and I walked up to his small apartment, where he busted out a guitar and strummed an old school country song that I didn't recognize. 

Duke told me that he and one of his buddies often came back to Duke's apartment and either played PS3 or pulled out guitars.  "I just get tired of all the shit those high class bitches dish out at the bars," he said. 

I listened to Duke play a few songs, and then asked for a blanket so that I could crash on his leather couch.

He put the guitar away, gave me a thick blanket and a pillow, and went into his room. 

I woke up the next morning, sore from the weird angle I'd slept at and angry that I'd spent around $100 the night before.

I drove myself home, tired and ready for a shower.

Day 59

Recently, I was at a restaurant/bar with the guy I'm dating, another attorney who I will call "Kyle." 

I told Kyle all about Duke, and he was fascinated by the story and by my skepticism regarding the vertically-challenged DA's sexuality.

Kyle and I had plans to meet some straight girl friends later that night, and he suggested that I invite Duke. 

"Does it really matter if Duke finds out that you're gay?"  He asked.

"No, I guess it doesn't.  He's an alright guy, but I don't really care either way if he doesn't want to hang out anymore."

So, I gave Duke a call and invited him to join us.

We met our straight friends (two girls) at a bar in Uptown, and Duke joined shortly thereafter. 

Throughout the night, I avoided telling Duke that I was gay.  It wasn't hard - Duke was interested in one of the girls we were with, and he focused much of his time trying to impress her. 

However, she didn't like the fact that every other word out of his mouth was "sh*t" or "f*ck," and she was even less impressed with Duke's flirtations and short stature.  For me, however, it was a welcome distraction from the conversation I was dreading.

Towards the end of the night, a random girl came up and hit on me.  She wasn't all that cute, but had enormous breasts.  I told her that I was gay, and then, somehow, we got into a conversation about big boobs.  At some point during the conversation, I wanted to get her psyched to hit on another guy, so I told her (very loudly) "You have the best breasts here in the bar!  And I'm gay and noticed - all of those straight guys must be drooling over you!"

Duke was standing right behind me. 

But he didn't react, or even seem to notice that I said it.

Towards the end of the night, our group walked back towards Kyle's apartment.  Duke was walking with the girls several steps behind Kyle and I.

He said, "Did you see that faggot standing at the bar?  That Mexican guy?  I think he was looking for some dick." 

I glanced back in time to see scowls appear on my girl friends' faces.  They scolded him for being so crude. 

I remember the guy he was talking about . . . a shorter Hispanic man who was very flamboyant.  I think he may have even hit on Duke once that night. 

We all parted ways, as Duke went to meet some other friends. 

That next morning, I got a text message from Duke:

Did you f*ck one of those chicks?  The one with the short skirt looked like she could suck a mean d*ck.

I called Kyle and told him that Duke definitely didn't hear my comment from the night before. 

I'm convinced that Duke is straight. 

More importantly, I don't really like the guy, so this story is over. 

THE END.

Comments

[Justin]

Duke sure seems straight as an arrow, but you never know. I hope it goes/went well.

The "gay or straight" puzzle is one that has been giving me fits for years. Perhaps one day I will develop the Super Human Power to tell the difference.

[abnitude]

duke sounds straight to me. if he hasn't then he has decided to hide himself well by inviting you to prowl for women. i can't wait to hear the outcome..and btw, di you ever reveal the answer about the college guy?

[Jay]

He does sound straight thus far but I've met plenty of guys who don't fit the gay "mold" so who knows. Certainly keeps me guessing!

[JR]

I gotta go with consensus here, man -- the guy sounds straight. Even when I'm "playing it straight," I don't offer that I "hunt for p*ssy" at such and such locations!

Cool blog, btw.

[Naija Dude!]

Suspense!!! Visited your blog once and I got hooked.
Well does Duke sound straight? I bet I am straight as well with those qualities so I really cant sum it up right now, you know the end of the story, bring it on!!

[Shaney]

If he is gay, he does an extremely good job at hiding it, but I feel with the majority here. He sounds like a typically gym jock, with too much attitude & no respect for himself or anyone else, judging by the way he treats strangers & women...I'd be walking away from that - and not looking back!

[hamilton]

he definitely sounds very flat now. I like a bit attitude but I think there are better ways to show your attitude than cussing the jesus out of everything you see. Especially the word faggot. That turns people off like no others.