Confessions of a gay pet

Recently, fag hags become a (thankfully) brief topic of conversation on our site, which got me to reminiscing. I don't have any fag hags. I have a good number of very close female friends, but I would not give any of them the ignominious title of FH. It implies that the woman in question has nothing better to do than fawn over unattainable men all day, which isn't healthy for anyone involved. It also creates the less-discussed dark side of fag haggery, which is the gay pet.

I should know, because I used to be one.

I wasn't out when I was in high school, but I don't think I was exactly fooling anybody either. I didn't date , I didn't start to really hook up with girls until junior year (and that was half-assed at best) and I displayed a suspicious interest in the penis sizes of the boys that my female friends had hooked up with. As such, I quickly became a sort of big sister figure to a lot of obnoxious girls. And I don't mean the "fun and cute" kind of sister, I mean the "overweight and has a facial birthmark, but is still really fun to get drunk with" kind of older sister. I cleaned up a lot of other people's messes.

I would accompany these girls to parties and then make awkward small talk with the host while they had sex with the other guests. I'd keep watch while they smoked pot in the alley's and hold their hair when they puked. I learned all their secrets and talked them through their breakups.

But throughout, they would also make me compliment their figures and wardrobe choices and ask me if I thought this or that boy was cute, shit that you would never talk about with a straight guy. I enjoyed having the safe space of people that I could at least be a little bit myself with, but also didn't enjoy feeling like a kept plaything because of it either. That's why I was near-ecstatic when I finally made some male friends and could get a break from all that nonsense.

So this might seem like a jump, but ever since those old days I've been reeeallly wary of girls that wanted to be friends with me just because I was gay. I'd played the implicit role of GBF (gay best friend) a couple times too many to want to explicitly play it in college. I remember some girls who got conspicuously more friendly to me after I came out. I also remember another girl who made a big deal when she caught me checking out some soccer players in uniform, saying something like "Oh my god, Zachary, you looked at their legs! I love that we can look at their legs together." The only way I stopped myself from screaming "Big fucking deal!" at her was to continue to check them out with all my strength and being. It actually wasn't that hard.

My point through all this is that I get really creeped out by guy/girl relationships that seem to be based fully on the fact that guy is gay and the girl thinks that its some cool novelty that he like, you know, likes dick and dresses well and stuff. My best friend in DC is a girl, not a fag hag. As a result, I'm her friend, not just her gay friend. I prefer it that way.