For the past week, I've been chatting up a guy I met online.  Before you make any judgments about me, let me say that long ago I realized that communicating in binary language is no way to meet a boyfriend.  However, the internet does offer any number of venues to seek out sex, when the need is there.

Perhaps you're going to make judgments about me anyway.

That said, about a week ago I started talking to a local guy who piqued my interest on more than a bootycall level.  Our initial conversation was filled with witty banter, and it turned out he was intelligent, funny, and employed.  This was two better than several of my ex-boyfriends.

Our chats were flirty, as you can expect from this thirty, flirty, and thriving, er, thirty-year-old.  While not pushing the issue, I thought that perhaps this was a guy I might like to meet for coffee just to see what attraction there might be.

But enough back story.  Yesterday he popped online after being out of town for a few days, so I gave him a digital wave.  We talked for a bit, I pushed the flirtatious envelope a bit.  He made a comment about having a hard time meeting quality guys, I responded that he had met at least one quality guy (look who clever I am!), and he replied, "You do seem like a quality guy, but I think you might be too comfortable with being a 'mo."

Screeeeeech.

What?

I sat silently for a few minutes, then attempted to look askance with only words, my laptop and the AOL Instant Messenger software.  (An emoticon would have been too flippant.)  He attempted a semi-apology, and then fired off a quick change of topic.

A few more minutes of stewing, and finally I responded.  "Look," I said.  "I've enjoyed our conversations, but that comment really put me off, so I'm just going to take my leave and go.  Have a good one."

He immediately responded back with another apology, asking for the opportunity to explain.  "I don't have very many gay friends, and it just seems that gay men are flaky and unreliable.  Since you're so comfortable being a homo, I figured you would be that way."

You can well imagine this was the end of the conversation for me.

Why yes, yes I am a big 'mo who is quite comfortable with being a 'mo.  I am so damn comfortable in my gay skin that I was the president of Gay Pride for two years.  I couldn't get enough of my own faggotry, so I took a job at the Gay and Lesbian Center.  And in case you didn't notice, I'm such a huge homo that my website is called Faggoty-Ass Faggot dot fucking com, for God's sake.

But no one would ever, ever use the words flaky or unreliable to describe me.  Need a ride to the airport?  Give me a call.  One of your volunteers bailed at the last minute?  I'll be there.  You and the boyfriend got into a fight?  Aw, honey, of course I can meet you for coffee.

Of course, what went unspoken in that conversation is what he really meant.  By turning on my patented Internalized Homophobia Translator, we can decipher what he left out:  ". . . it just seems that most gay men are flaky and unreliable effeminate queens."

And you betcha, I'll raise my hand and say, "Guilty as charged."  Yes, I can be a big nelly girl.  I will flame-out like the best of them.  I even did drag once (or twice).  And thank God for that, 'cause I was sure miserable all of those years I tried to fit in with the straight boys.

As I suspect you might be, too.  Man, I remember those days.  Life sure gets better when you can release all of those expectations.

Me?  I'm just going to keep on with my reliable, non-flaky, occasionally girly gay existence.  Seems to be working thus far.