My sweet, sweet, virgin ass

In order to acquire the new wardrobe that is necessary to fit my rapidly expanding ass, I have been making somewhat frequent trips to the mall (which conveniently can be found across the parking lot from my apartment). Since I am being forced to shop for, as well as purchase new clothing, I have decided that I may as well do a decent job doing so. This has involved browsing and spending time in a variety of various outfitters in order to discover just which one would come closest to "defining" me.
After realizing that I had no desire to feel like a pedophile (A&F), had little chance of turning gay or Albanian any time soon (Express), have never touched a surfboard in my life and live in the Midwest (Hollister), and fear with my every living fiber that I am too-old-but-still-trying-to-be-hip (The Gap), I have settled on American Eagle. Their clothes seem to fit me well, they provide a friendly, non-threatening shopping environment minus pumping house music, and most of the clothing found within the store is...well...fucking reasonable. I feel like I can shop there.
However, my most recent trip across the parking lot has resurfaced a recent "issue" of sorts.
You see, an influx of gay men have been showing me a bit of attention lately. An almost uncomfortable amount of attention. Before I start to discuss this in any sort of detail, let me throw out the following disclaimer: I have no problem with gay folks. I really don't. In fact, I have friends/relatives that are gay*** But truth of the matter is, I really have no problem what-so-ever with gay people. It's no different than if you told me you were a Steelers fan rather than a Browns fan. A major and possibly irreconcilable difference in out lives? You bet. But impossible to understand? No, of course not.
This phenomenon started with someone that I see on a regular basis at my gym. I had always been rather friendly with him, much like other people that I see there multiple times per week. I assumed that he may be gay, but it really didn't take up that much of my consciousness, as the reason I go to the gym is to stop thinking for a while. However, when this particular gentleman was seen driving through the parking lot of my place of employment while I was out on a smoke break (I quit smoking six years ago but never quit taking smoke breaks) I told him with no mistake that this was NOT acceptable. This didn't, however, dissuade him from giving me a box of chocolates for Christmas. My co-workers thoroughly enjoyed them (I am unnaturally petrified of junk food), and since most of them were present for the drive-by, also got a good laugh out of the whole thing.
The next incident(s) occurred after a business trip to Chicago. While there, there were some gentleman who I was fairly certain were gay, but it never really came up in conversation. Upon leaving, I left my phone number on a note thanking everyone for being so friendly. Shortly after returning home, the text messages started. They were, well...rather suggestive in nature. When I talked to my co-worker who had taken the trip with me, she was not at all surprised, as apparently two of the guys there had approached her and asked if I was gay. She had denied this, but they were fairly certain that I was. And obviously this did not discourage them from sending me repetitive text messages. It was like some bizarre carnival competition, with the grand prize being my very average sized penis and virgin asshole. It was quite interesting to say the least.
The most recent chapter (and trust me, I could name several others) happened at the mall this evening. After shopping for a while, a very friendly salesman asked me if I go out to the bars in the area. I confirmed that I did (I do enjoy the booze from time to time) and he asked me which bars I frequented. I name my local favs and he asked about a few others that I had never been to. I mentioned that I'd check them out, and he very calm and collectively asked me..."Are you straight?"
I confirmed, yes, I was straight (For some reason gay guys always ask me..."Are you straight?" as opposed to "Are you gay?" I have no idea why this is). He reply as he walked away was, "That's too bad."

Now while I am leaving out a few other incidents at local bars and here and there, I have been asking myself why this is happening at such an alarming rate. I have come up with a few theories:

I am I fairly good-looking guy in excellent shape. I mean, I would fuck me. If you wanted to know how I felt about the whole thing. So, if I was gay, I would probably be attracted to me. This is my first theory. I am just pure sex. This I cannot help.
My second idea is that somehow I give out a massive gay vibe. I don't talk softly, I passionately discuss sports at an almost unhealthy pace, and I oogle cute girls at every opportunity. Therefore, I feel as though I can confidently dismiss this theory.
When drinking, I stare at everyone. This is because it takes me at least an extra three seconds to focus, and then another five or so seconds for my thalamus to provide the necessary information to my cortex for further processing. Then I have to decide whether what I am seeing pleases me. When drinking, generally everything pleases me or instantly infuriates me. So what I'm saying is that maybe I just stare too much. This is certainly possible.
I'm going to hold to my first theory (this is the one that states that I am pure sex if you have forgotten). For the sake of my sanity, that is what I'm going with. It is the only plausible explanation for this whole thing. And someone just sent me a text. I hope it's not from Chicago.



***There is no quicker way to spot a racist/homophobe than to hear someone say this. This is simply true.