Perhaps, as massage therapy goes mainstream, it’s simply harder for the agencies charged with governing its practices to keep a watchful eye. In the end, Hans’ offer felt presumptuous and objectifying-but I also know that that’s slightly disingenuous because, had it been a cute woman, I would have faced a tough choice. And in fairness to Hans, I should admit that I fall into the “straight but gayish” camp: men who, while sure about our heterosexuality, gravitate toward mid-century modern design, opera and flat-front trousers. That we even use the term “flat-front trousers” is evidence of the sexual-orientation vagueness we seem to emit. A bit of unwanted male attention is the price we pay for being just gay enough. So, while Hans’ offer was flattering, it left me wanting to swaddle myself in pleated Dockers while guzzling pitchers of warm Schlitz in a sports bar. ![]() I still belong to the gym, and I still see Hans, hovering in the doorway of the massage room.
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