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wilfrido david
wilfrido david I WOULD sit on the bench inside the Coronado Mall in Albuquerque while I waited for my wife as she does her shopping, indulging in my favorite pasttime—Gay-spotting!

I have always believed in myself, in fact, amazed at how good I am at it. Call it ESP, or an inborn talent developed through years of practice, making small mental notes on what makes the difference and subtle signs there are to discern.

Nowadays, men or boys wearing earrings is no longer a sure sign because that is in style or generally accepted as the IN thing, aside from body tatoos, which is a form of perversion altogether.

Tell-tale signs in women are jackets, sweaters, or blazers over collared shirts, tight but stylish tailored pants, dress shoes, aversion to makeup, short cropped hair, and a manly stride.

Years of practice also have developed a radar-like talent in me. I could tell one even if she liked sexy get-up such as mini-skirts, hot pants, or form fitting dresses—for it is their mannerisms or demeanor that give them away.

Subtle signs are: no eye-contact with men, displaying only indifference at the way men look at them, because they really dress or try to look beautiful to attract women. It makes it easier to snare them.

Now, when it comes to men, it is rather complicated. They could be as macho as the next guy, muscle-bound, mustachioed, terrific dressers, executive-like in mannerism, dignified looking or they could be as ordinary looking as the everyday mall denizen.

But I still can spot one by the perfume he wears (a female scent is a dead giveaway), by his fastidiousness, or the unguarded twist of his wrist, the flamboyance of language, the ambivalence of his eyebrows, the studied soft tone of voice, the blinking of the eyes, the hula-like swaying of the hips.

Most male gays are loud, even flaunting their sexual orientation by using Malandi behavior. They come from or are in the entertainment field, or in the cosmetology industry as hairdressers or makeover artists, and a good number in the physical therapy field where they are constanly tending to mens' needs. Some wind up in priests' vestments, or become dress designers, or government officials.

Despite the seemingly liberal attitude towards gays nowadays, some prefer to remain in the closet for reasons of their own, silently suffering from identity crisis.

Homosexuality, per se, according to studies, is in the genes, dormant until it finds the right opportunity to assert itself.

We are all potential homosexuals, recognizing the signs and acting on them when we see fit: Do you imagine yourself being alone or sequestered in the company of boys or men, like in school dorms, or the seminary, or the gym, or even in military barracks or quarters? Can you ever believe that men in military schools like the PMA or West Point graduate men have never engaged in same-sex encounters? Have you ever fantazised about same sex idols, crushes, your boss, or even your cousin? Are you in denial?

Homosexuality comes in and takes many forms. If it's not "inborn," then it's developed by how the family treats you. Did your mother take exception to you as being her favorite (Mama's boy), or did your sisters dress you as a girl when you were growing up, applying make-up on you, or did your brothers bully you for being soft or refusing to play with them or have you enjoyed playing with dolls, or was some good-looking boy extra nice to you by spending time with you, sharing his baon?

All these play an important role in your development when you were still in the formative years. If you find yourself confused as to your real identity, then you become "silahis," caught in a dilemma through no fault of your own. I am neither male nor female in orientation, the in-between gender, so I choose the lesser but more pleasurable category—-the AC-DC, to which most male entertainers belong.

Transvestites or cross dressers are not necessarily gay. Neither are hermaphrodites. Rather, they are freaks of nature. They have no choice but to be what or who they are and make the best of it.

Is homosexuality curable? Not according to studies or research on human behavior. It is like drug addiction, you think you are cured of it, but then deny that it is slowly creeping back on you, and you find yourself being what you did not want to be but are: helpless, futile, being more confused than ever.

How come, you might ask, I know so much about homosexuality and being good at or an expert in gay-spotting. The next question that may be in the back of your mind is, can I possibly be one myself? You have the benefit of the doubt.

I am coming out of the closet soon but only because I find the air in there too stifling. I often spend time in the closet to hide from my wife when she is in a nagging mode.


[About the author. Wilfrido David is a resident of Albuquerque, New Mexico since 1985. He is an avid news consumer, habitually tuned to global TV via satellite. In turn, he occasionally comes up with spiced up essays and anecdotes liberally sprinkled with his wry humor, at times irreverent, oftentimes as corny as corn-on-the-cob, but nontheless thought provoking. He thinks of himself as a "junior senior," a mature gentleman with very active brain cells but a waning testosterone count. He is an American citizen by necessity, not by choice, as he so aptly put it. He is as Kapampangan as sisig, no more, no less.]

-Posted: 12:12 PM 10/7/11 | More of this author on eK!
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