Got you reading, huh. Pervert. But yeah, it's true: I'm not. No, really. Yes, trust me. Well, of course I know for sure; I'll tell you later how I know.

It doesn't seem to stop gay men from hitting on me, though. Maybe I have gay hair, like Chandler Bing in Friends . I've been approached, oh let me see now, a handful of times. It's not some kind of badge that I wear with pride; it just is. I'm bored and I have nothing to write about but I can't sleep, so it's bottom of the barrel time (or, if you want to be crass about it, "barrelling the bottom" time). But I'll try to turn this into an examination of the gay condition in a minute. Just bear with me.

First, though, I must say it is a trifle depressing to get hit on by good-looking people of your own kind and not by That Which Actually Matters. Have I ever been hit on in the streets out of the blue by unknown women? Well, yeah (okay, twice, and one of them was a case of mistaken identity). But have I ever been hit on by CUTE unknown women?

Will a WOMAN come on to me?

Tch. Silence is such a bitch sometimes.

Does this thing freak me out? Uh, no. In case you weren't paying attention (it's only in the first paragraph, after all), I already said I know I'm not gay. Or did you miss that 'cause you're just skimming for the sex parts? Well, if you are, you can safely trash this article now, cos there isn't going to be any luridness. Except for the one two-thirds down.

Ha! You closet raincoat wearer.

Anyway. One time, I was sitting in Dave's Deli in Atria in Damansara Jaya. The only reason why I know exactly which Damansara it's in, is because my uncle used to live there when the area first opened in the 80s and we used to visit whenever my dad took the KL route back from Penang to Kuala Lipis. He basically navigated by the rooftops, which he called "rumah topi" (because they look like hats, what else?). These were visible from the roadside, so when we saw them we'd know we were in the right place. They're still there, too, these rumah topi .

So there I was in the deli sitting on my own one breezy weekend having my shepherd's pie and fizzy passionfruit drink (don't you just love that Esprit stuff? One of the few things to come out of Australia that is genuinely pleasurable, I think. Unless you have a penchant for sheep, in which case there are a thousand pleasures just waiting for you "down under" wink wink).

The reason why I'm sure that was what I had is because that's all I'd go to Dave's Deli for. (And yes, when I have Esprit, it's always the passionfruit because I went through all of them early on and quickly decided I didn't like the others. Now, if they had pineapple flavour...)

My diet when I was four

I used to also go for those foot-long sausages but then they started making them all chewy, it was like going through a rubber balloon. You expect me to say "condom", I know, but I have never tried eating one before (how many times need I assert my un-gayness?). Rubber balloons, though, yes, I have tried eating them (oh, like you hadn't done strange things as a child), so I actually do know how they taste like. They're tasteless. You'd get more flavour chewing your tongue. That's why I stopped eating balloons, no matter how colourful they may be.

(In case this might be useful to you someday, I used to like scraping off match heads with my teeth and then sucking on them, too, so I also know what sulphur tastes like. It's crunchy, salty-ish with a slightly bitter aftertaste. Kuala Lipis in the 70s lah, what do you expect... it wasn't exactly Vegas.)

(That, by the way, gives me the authority needed to vouch for the quality of the imported Swedish stuff, which is smooth and crumbly, as compared to the cheapo local King Kong Swatting Biplanes brands, which are admittedly crunchier and fuller flavoured. Eat too much of either type and you'll get a headache. But all this is nostalgia now because who uses matches anymore these days? And no, I have never tried sniffing lighter fluid, they look dangerous.)

Well, since we're having so much fun reminiscing about my childhood, my mother, for some reason, once told my brothers, in front of me, that I used to have a penchant for running 'round my grandfather's house stark naked as a toddler whenever they tried giving me a bath. It seems the minute they got all my clothing off me I'd go bounding off, and my father always had a tough time chasing after me. Yes, I was and still am indeed a cute bundle of joy, and if you are too, do make it a point to hit on me the next time you see me.

Anyway, I was telling you about the time I got hit on in Atria. Tomorrow, perhaps. And then I'll also tell you about the puzzling case of the gay relationship I was in without my knowledge about it until it was over for few years. Figures. Nobody bothers to tell me when I get dumped.

(Cont'd. Maybe)

RUHAYAT X is still waiting to be asked out on a date.