There is a man who sits on the board of directors for the organization I work for who has wealth, happiness, and that certain something that people who are secure in their own “spirituality” exude: The dude is sort of weird. He's weird like a martial arts expert or a devout Christian, both of which usually try to bring you into their fold because they are sure your life will be improved, and they won't let it drop. This particular guy is weird like a yoga instructor who's been doing it since before it became a fad. He's weird like a Scientologist. He's weird like an NRBQ fan. Still, he fascinates me.
He is a New Age thinker, most notably subscribing to the Power of Positive Thinking school, A Course in Miracles, will to power, think it/make it, put it out there and you'll get it back … all that stuff.
The dude has a point. I hate dogma, but I really believe that you not only reap what you sow, but that you can manifest either good or bad energy in your life. So, in honor of the new year, I have decided to start listening to this guy on our board. I have decided to ask the universe for what I want, think positively, and see what happens.
I pretty much have everything I want in my life right now except a relationship. So, thinking positively, I Opened Myself To Love and put on some tight pants. I then went to the bar at Home, an upscale comfort food 'n' booze joint at the foot of the Castro. OK, here was my first mistake, universal energy-wise. If you are a straight woman looking for love, don't vacation on Fire Island, you dig me? My second mistake was going out with three guys, which not only made me appear unapproachable, but perhaps even kinda cheap.
We all sat at the bar, and my company was embroiled in a discussion about Czechoslovakian dirges or something, so I busied myself checking out the bartenders. You can always count on good-looking straight men working near the Castro. Home has some of the best-looking bartenders I have ever seen. But they would never be interested in a girl like me, I thought to myself, only to follow that negative thought up with a swift Hey now, think positively, Ugly. I mean, Kate.
I sparked up a conversation with a guy on my left who was drinking and dining by himself. He was handsome and dark, with the kind of eyes that look like they have eyeliner on them even though they don't. He was gay and a regular, and we both began admiring the staff. I had him use his gaydar and point out all the straight people who work there and then we compared their merits. God I love hanging out with gay men. Anyway, my favorite bartender was straight. OK, time to start thinking positively. I made some eye contact.
Troy, my newfound friend, had recently moved to the city from Danville because there were no good gay men out that way. He is looking for a relationship and is having problems. “Everyone in this city just wants to hook up,” he lamented. “No one wants monogamy.” I was surprised to hear that because I have known a lot of gay guys in long-term relationships in S.F. I began to wonder if Troy wasn't putting a message out there to the universe that he wasn't going to find a partner, so he was getting that message sent back to him in the form of guys not into commitment.
The hot bartender had looked at me a few times by this point, the two of us making awkward eye contact. This is where my positive thinking came in. If I weren't interested in this guy and he kept looking at me like this, I would know immediately that he was interested in me, accept it, and move on. But, since I think this person is attractive, when he looks at me I only have self-doubt. I tried to turn that around, and think that maybe if I like a guy, he might like me, too. Like, is it so crazy that someone I am attracted to would be attracted to me? Think positively, Kate.
“Troy,” I said, “I have been thinking a lot lately about the 'Law of Attraction.' Do you think that you are meeting commitment-phobic people because that is what you expect on some deep level?”
“Wow!” he said, “Yes! I am all about the Law of Attraction! That is exactly what I think is happening!” But Troy sees it on an even broader level, in that the entire gay community in S.F. is under the impression that no one will commit, that this is a city of hookups, and that this is just perpetuating itself and creating that reality on a grand scale. It is a default setting. The energy needs to be shifted.
The bartender looked at me again and then nonchalantly smoothed his hair back like men do when they are trying to look casual after a chick they are attracted to checks them out. At least, this is what I was telling myself, in a very positive, open way.
I offered to Troy the idea that maybe the inherent flaw in male-male relationships is that, since men have different attractions than women do and are more prone to “hook up” a lot, the whole thing can indeed snowball into one gigantic town of disconnection. Perhaps gay men in S.F. are like the same ends of two magnets.
“We're going to Amber,” said someone in my group, and before I knew it I was swept up in the shuffle and out the door. I barely said goodbye to Troy and never even gave the bartender a parting glance. At least I felt like I had turned on my magnet, on some level.
My energy is still there at Home, I suppose, floating around that stool and feeling hopeful. — Katy.StClair@sfweekly.com
Home. 2100 Market St., 503-0333. www.home-sf.com