Probabalistic Statistics

[gallahadesquire]

I'm not even sure that's a word ...

 

Today, two things happened:

 

1. I was at Physical therapy, and this amazing Muscle bear STARED at me for about five minutes.
   
2. A hbot, 20-something red head, with about 3% body fat and a hand-grenade abdomen, not only chatted me up in the locker room, but came into the Pool Area, to say hi to the Life Guard and check the pool (me) out.
   

ok. I'm 63; 5'9"; 280 ("fluffy, not stuffy"). MOstly ignorable.

 

Am I crazy to think some perfect-red-head-specimen might actually have some interest?

 

Please, shoot me down. I think I need it.

[+ Robster]

You're not crazy for thinking he was interested. You're just crazy for not taking him home.

 

Oh, and

 

[+ sync]

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

[recency]

I think it is sad that there is so much propaganda in the gay community about "desirable" and even "healthy" bodies. See what happens? People are reluctant to believe that others could be interested. Well, in my experience, they are. Life has taught me that the important thing for me to do is to take action. (hello, Sartre!). Forget about being "shot down" and try to imagine yourself as a door to door encyclopedia salesman. Encyclopedias are wonderful, but the road is still tough. Rejection, they say, is only information. And a VERY wise man once advised me to walk into a gay bar, pick out the ten hottest (to me) gay men, and come on to each of them in turn until one said yes. I got to number 3. And I am definitely not centerfold material by the lockstep standards in current pop culture. So, go for it! And thanks for posting. I am glad you brought up this important issue.

[AdamSmith]

I think it is sad that there is so much propaganda in the gay community about "desirable" and even "healthy" bodies. See what happens? People are reluctant to believe that others could be interested. Well, in my experience, they are. Life has taught me that the important thing for me to do is to take action. (hello, Sartre!). Forget about being "shot down" and try to imagine yourself as a door to door encyclopedia salesman. Encyclopedias are wonderful, but the road is still tough. Rejection, they say, is only information. And a VERY wise man once advised me to walk into a gay bar, pick out the ten hottest (to me) gay men, and come on to each of them in turn until one said yes. I got to number 3. And I am definitely not centerfold material by the lockstep standards in current pop culture. So, go for it! And thanks for posting. I am glad you brought up this important issue.

 

YES, YES, YES, YES, YES! Several years ago when I finally pulled the rip-cord on an emotionally abusive marriage, and as part of the same Great Leap Forward absconded from cold correct Boston to Manhattan, to my own surprise I found myself to be a happily liberated self presenting itself out in the public gay and social venues, and getting commensurate response. People are attracted to what you radiate about yourself, and what you find engaging in them, far beyond whatever you might think your--in my case then very ordinary-looking 50-year-old--physical manifestation merits.

[+ Gar1eth]

I'm not even sure that's a word ...

 

Today, two things happened:

 

1. I was at Physical therapy, and this amazing Muscle bear STARED at me for about five minutes.
   
2. A hbot, 20-something red head, with about 3% body fat and a hand-grenade abdomen, not only chatted me up in the locker room, but came into the Pool Area, to say hi to the Life Guard and check the pool (me) out.
   

ok. I'm 63; 5'9"; 280 ("fluffy, not stuffy"). MOstly ignorable.

 

Am I crazy to think some perfect-red-head-specimen might actually have some interest?

 

Please, shoot me down. I think I need it.

 

I'm happy to think they were. What's an hbot?

 

Gman

[+ Gar1eth]

I think it is sad that there is so much propaganda in the gay community about "desirable" and even "healthy" bodies. See what happens? People are reluctant to believe that others could be interested. Well, in my experience, they are. Life has taught me that the important thing for me to do is to take action. (hello, Sartre!). Forget about being "shot down" and try to imagine yourself as a door to door encyclopedia salesman. Encyclopedias are wonderful, but the road is still tough. Rejection, they say, is only information. And a VERY wise man once advised me to walk into a gay bar, pick out the ten hottest (to me) gay men, and come on to each of them in turn until one said yes. I got to number 3. And I am definitely not centerfold material by the lockstep standards in current pop culture. So, go for it! And thanks for posting. I am glad you brought up this important issue.

 

YES, YES, YES, YES, YES! Several years ago when I finally pulled the rip-cord on an emotionally abusive marriage, and as part of the same Great Leap Forward absconded from cold correct Boston to Manhattan, to my own surprise I found myself to be a happily liberated self presenting itself out in the public gay and social venues, and getting commensurate response. People are attracted to what you radiate about yourself, and what you find engaging in them, far beyond whatever you might think your--in my case then very ordinary-looking 50-year-old--physical manifestation merits.

 

Possible and probable but not for me. I can't tell you how many times I've been totally ignored at gay bars.There are multiple reasons I never wanted to act on being gay. But in the back of my mind was the knowledge that I knew most guys that I would be interested in weren't going to be interested in me anyway. So what did it matter if I came out at all. And I have been proved right.

 

In addition I've given up the social apps as they were just case studies in futility for me. But if things are different for y'all, then I'm glad. But unfortunately luck doesn't hit all of us equally-or it wouldn't be luck. It would be an everyday occurrence.

 

Gman

[greatnorthernp]

A little tale...or two...

 

A couple of years back, I was visiting friends in Montreal. One thing led to another, and soon we were looking at old photo albums. I turned a page, and a photo of a seriously hot guy leapt out at me. Beautiful blue eyes, spectacular wavy chestnut hair, dimpled chin, a perfect auburn mustache and sexy scruff, broad shoulders, big chest and arms barely contained in a t-shirt, and the sweetest smile. Colt Studio material. I'll pass over the impressive way his Levi 501s displayed everything below the belt.

 

I almost exclaimed, "Whoa! Who's the stud?" until my brain's higher functions finally kicked in and parsed the image. It was me, 30 years earlier.

 

Here's the punchline. 30 years earlier I was in the grip of body dysmorphia so profound that I could not even look at myself in a mirror because I considered myself unattractive; so much so that, if I had been forced to describe myself, I would have used the words "butt-ugly, with a face only a mother could love". I'd go out with friends to clubs and they'd pick up while no one even looked at me. I'd go to bathhouses and wander for a couple of hours before giving up and going home to jerk off alone, my dysmorphia again confirmed by the experience (or lack thereof). This state lasted for several years, undiminished even by hitting the gym 5 times a week. At one point I was about 200 lbs., had a 32" waist and a six-pack which, at 5'9", put me--objectively--into bodybuilder size range. I saw none of it. None at all.

 

I gave up and stopped even trying, resigning myself to being the unfortunate kid in the candy store who had braces. I could look, but couldn't taste. The chronic pain of virginity, even after coming out, became a dull ache throbbing in the background.

 

Nothing lasts forever, of course, and I eventually met my future husband at church. (Yeah, seriously.) Even then it took almost two years of hanging out before I dared to ask, "May I kiss you?". (He said, "Oh, please do!".)

 

What was going on during all this? According to my husband (and it took some effort to get him to reluctantly spill the beans), my debilitating insecurity, seen from the outside, came across as frigid aloofness of the very worst sort. Who wants to chat up a hunky Ice Queen with "don't-even-bother-to-look" attitude?

 

Tale 2...

 

A friend in his mid 80s loves going to the baths. He goes several times a week. He loves it, and has a good reason to love it: he always gets lucky. Always. He's not a daddy, not even a granddad, he's a great-granddad and has a whole stable of guys who think he's really hot.

 

Grab every opportunity. Cast caution to the winds. Enjoy. Ignore the inner voice that says "You haven't got a chance!" because we all do.

[+ purplekow]

You gotta be in in, to win it. NYS Lottery Motto and mine.

 

Now you do not want to throw away a winning ticket because you were too afraid to check the numbers. Hey it may be a loser or it may be the jackpot. That is the joy of the lottery and really that is the joy to life.