Thank God My Gaydar was Off

Easy going date Story by MissBetta
  • Moscow, Aug 2014


was at a party at someone's apartment - it was steaming hot, the place was heaving with a mix of Russians and expats, and I was bored and cranky. I was about to make my exit when I saw him across the room -- face like an angel with a public schoolboy floppy haircut. He caught my eye and smiled at me. I smiled back. It would have been impossible not to. But the thing is, I thought he was just being friendly. Obviously, he was gay. The haircut was a dead giveaway. Nonetheless, I decided that I might stay just a wee bit longer.

When the pretty boy suggested that we flee the party and go to a club, I agreed at once.

I found myself in the kitchen, and suddenly there he was, accompanied by a balding guy who was not so appealing. For some reason, I assumed they were a couple. We chatted, we laughed, we were having a good time. When the pretty boy suggested that we flee the party and go to a club, I agreed at once. Who doesn't want to go dance with a couple of gay guys.

On the street, we flagged down a car (this is what substitutes for a taxi in Moscow). The cute boy, whose Russian was nothing short of amazing, negotiated the price and took the front seat next to the driver. Baldy got in back with me.

We'd been on the road no more than 5 minutes when, to my shock and horror, Baldy flung himself on me and tried to stick his tongue down my throat. I wriggled free and made it clear I was not interested. What I was was shocked. My Gaydar is pretty accurate, as I've been a "gabe" since my freshman year in college. Indeed, I've taken hanging with my gay friends to a professional level. How could I have been so wrong?

The more we danced, the cuter he got.

We arrived at the club and I quickly fled, hoping to avoid the bald guy. I ran into the Cute Boy at the bar. He bought me a Heineken. The little wheels in my head began to spin. If I was wrong about the Bald One.....

We went to dance. Cute Boy could dance. The more we danced, the cuter he got. I began to hope fervently that I was wrong. And I HATE being wrong. Finally, I could bear it no more. I pulled him off the dance floor. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but do you like girls?"

He laughed, pushed me back against the wall, and ran his hand across my back under my sweater. "What do you think?"

"I think we need to leave right now." And we did.

What I’ve learned with this date

This experience taught me the valuable, if obvious, lesson that things are not always as they seem and first impressions can be dead wrong. Now, I wait until I get to know a guy a bit before I make snap judgments.

  • By MissBetta from New York City
    • 1 Story by me
  • 100 % useful votes (2 of 2)
  • 2 years in MLR