Not my type - some random thoughts?

I have often wondered why I am so fascinated by the human affliction called pairing. It is not that the local pubs are not filled with people expecting to get lucky over the weekend that bothers me but the stereotypical attitudes people have about being different and their need to find perfection in others. I do hate to admit it but some people can be frighteningly insensitive about being type-cast but have no reservations about 'casting' others.

On a recent podcast that I came across, the broadcasters were concerned how the evolution of a 'caste' system is getting more and more apparent within the gay community. There are the muscle marys, the femmebots, the bears, the moles, the rats, the cows, the pigs (swines), the beavers and the tamarinds (not a food source) etc. It seems that the community is filled with farm animals these days from your downright carnivores to your nimble, preppy-looking 'Herbies'. So how would one, single and available, embark on this quest of compatibility?

I can't speak for others but I can about myself and like many people have a memory to share.

It was Friday night and I was tired, having worked the night shift at the restaurant the day before I was ready for some R&R over a G&T. I stepped into the bar and made my way to the usual corner to order my drink. We were groupies and like any other groupies had a designated area. It was called the high visibility corner. The dimly lit environ was bustling with activity and the amount of people spilled over the entrance. This was not surprising - beer was cheap here and the crowd of mixed aged individuals made it more enticing.

B let me call him B because I think he reads the blog.... was sitting at the far corner too - it was a good place to sit as it had a panoramic view of people coming in and out of the establishment. I had grabbed my drink from the front bar and brushed against B's thighs accidentally - trust me this place was packed and because the gay scene was minute, it was the norm. I apologised so that it was not misunderstood as a pick-up strategy. I said ' Sorry, I didn't mean to" and B replied, "It was my pleasure". B was well-read but had just arrived in Singapore after a break-up in Jakarta. This I gathered later on. We became buddies. I was 23-24 and B was 40.

I think my attraction is defined by the first impression I have of that person. I like my partners to be well-mannered, gentle in demeanour but strong in character. When I was much younger, copulation was also a priority - sexual rigour a must. This has somewhat changed with age - tenderness is more fulfilling. The only qualm I guess is that most anglo-saxons or westerners for that matter arriving in Singapore come with their own personal baggage and being of tender age, I guess I was abit naive at that time. They on the other hand have suddenly arrived at Le Carnivale - with locals treating the situation like a bloody circus. So begin the cleansing process...they revert back to the same animal instinct that made them leave their country of origin in the first place and history repeats itself.

Type is therefore an evolution in itself. I find more and more pleasure in conversing with individuals from many backgrounds these days in all shape and sizes. My attraction are no longer wedged by lust but a sincere and honest need to connect. I admit that I am not immune to the brawn effect but I have learnt to look beyond the flesh and I expect there to be more. Often I am left wanting but I never let that stop me. There should not be a limit to brotherly love and love like good friendship endures.

I am cautiously sensitive with the words I use in my conversations - never to insult or worse patronise. The birth right of being Asian have not clouded my views that being an individual is a human right and not race-specific. There is nothing exotic about me apart from the way I look and the fact that I am not your stereotypical hairless chick from Bangkok should not be my misgivings. I am tri-lingual - which does not mean I try, try and try again. I can hike for 3 hours, abseil from steep hilltops but yet sit comfortably through 3 hours of luxurious pampering at the spa.

I am neither ABs Fab nor a huge lump of droopy flesh. I like my Nikes as much as my Zegnas. I prefer Prada to Vuitton but can survive on a shoestring with my hessian man-bag at a local market. I like my men in various shades of colour and have no defined rules to what makes anyone a complete bastard. I prefer Puccini as much as Paulini - music is also integral as is poetry. I prefer colour which is not restricted to language alone - primary more so than secondary. There are many blues as there are greens and reds. I cut my hair twice a month, leave the beard, shaves the beard, leaves the goatee, shaves the goatee etc.

My only weakness I guess is that I am attracted to kind people and I hope that kind people are attracted to me because I try. I can see kindness - a gentleness that others hide and I hope I share the same affliation when I am introduced to others. My greatest sorrow is not being able to eradicate loneliness as my greatest joy is to see people who are close to me be happy. I do prefer a double shot latte as much as a good cup of chamomile tea and do not care much for people who have no opinions vs the annoyance of people who are excessively opinionated, I abhor.

So really what is my type? I don't mind them bald, I don't mind them pierced, I don't mind them hairy, I don't mind them smooth. I don't mind them large or larger than life, I don't mind them petite but not tres petite, I don't mind them tall or short, jeans or suited, I don't mind them with a smile or two, the fresh scent of one just out of a shower or after a long strenuous run; that manly musky smell. So what is wrong with my type if I like them all as long as they are respectful....and maybe that is the key to my dilemma - disrespect is a common human trait that is so often a inbred gay culture...juvenile but still a process that one has to go through. I guess what I am saying is never let the culture define you or the way you see the world. Just be yourself and you will be naturally attractive - in more ways than one.

The gay culture can be an addiction that always require re-definition, re-assessment and prioritising. Never let the culture define your being or fail yourself by randomly defining others.