Stealth Cutie

I forgot to mention Stealth Cutie. Have you ever known a stealth cutie — someone about whom you have said to yourself, “Why didn’t I realize until now just how cute this person is?” or “Why did my subconscious wait so long to tell me about this?” Well, I encountered a stealth cutie this weekend. He was a member of my high school graduating class. I always knew who he was — my class had only about 100 people in it — but for some reason it wasn’t until this weekend that I was fully aware of his adorableness. He wasn’t around on Friday night, but someone mentioned that he’d be showing up the following evening, and I thought to myself, “Oh really? Well, that would be terrific,” without even realizing that I was thinking it. But my subconscious must have known what was going on.

On Saturday night, there he was. He didn’t come to the restaurant, but he showed up at the Culture Club afterwards. He’s only an inch or two taller than me, and he has dark hair and dark eyes and eyebrows — Caucasian, but with sort of a Mediterranean or Italian or Eastern European look. He was wearing a pair of glasses with narrow tortoise-shell frames. And he looked adorable. I felt this instant visceral attraction to him, something I hadn’t felt in a long time. I looked at him and I was in love.

Stealth Cutie went to law school, and now he works in Manhattan as a litigation consultant. He’s a really nice, soft-spoken guy. And… he’s married. To a woman, of course.

Damn.

Another gay member of my high school class, whom I’ll call Joe, was at the club, too, and at one point, over the din of the music, I shouted to him how incredibly cute and adorable I thought Stealth Cutie was and how if he weren’t straight I would totally marry him. I might have said something sexual, too, I’m not sure.

I got to talk with Stealth Cutie on the dance floor for a little while. And later, a few of us were taking a break from dancing and were sitting on some bleachers against a wall, and he came up to sit with us. Two of us were sitting at the top row with a space between us, and he sat right there between us. None of us really said anything — we just kind of sat there, relaxing, listening to the music and watching the crowd.

Later, back on the dance floor, when Stealth Cutie was shouting his goodbyes to everyone, he gave me his business card. I was flattered and moved and internally excited, because he didn’t give his card to the other people who were around at that moment. But hey, we both went to law school and we both live in the New York area, so maybe he felt some sort of connection to me.

And then yesterday I was talking with Joe again, because he’d invited me to go to Queens Pride with him and his boyfriend. (“Queens” as in the borough of New York City. Otherwise, the name would have been redundant.) And Joe told me that Stealth Cutie had overheard all my enthusiastic effusiveness about him. He’d been standing nearby, and I had been shouting because the music was so loud, but apparently I’d been shouting too loudly. I wasn’t even drunk. Anyway, I guess Stealth Cutie must have said something afterwards.

So Joe told me about this and I was mortified. He told me I shouldn’t be, that Stealth Cutie was probably flattered. I guess that’s true. It’s embarrassing, though! I tend to be a tad uncomfortable around straight guys who know I’m gay, because I’m afraid they’ll think (or know) that I find them attractive, and I don’t know how they’ll react to me. But I guess if a guy is secure enough in his heterosexuality, it won’t bother him. Obviously Stealth Cutie wasn’t bothered by it since he gave me his business card.

But it’s still embarrassing.

Oh, Stealth Cutie… I’d love to meet a gay guy who looks like you.