That time I pretended to be gay

Bachelor failed the test after his crush asked him for a massage

In Summary

• Since every other boy had tried her and run into a wall, I decided to be her gay friend


It’s an open secret that all women aspire to have at least one gay man for a friend. It’s like having a traitor in their inner circle. Like playing a game of “Pick and Choose”, where they get all the qualities they admire in a good man, without the complications that come with sex and its cousin intimacy.

Sex and all that other nonsense they save for the callous, jobless, chonga-ing fella who whittles his life away at the “Base”, entertaining the boys with his plans of one day building multiple flats and naming each one after an ex. They like a man who will listen, giggle, make all the necessary noises, and not judge.

This one time in college, I had the hots for a girl called Wanda. Oh, yes. She was all that and then some. Since every other boy had tried her and run into a wall, I decided to go a different route. That’s how I became her gay friend. I thought we would just hang out and chat. You know, Netflix and chill?

Boy, was I in for a rude awakening. One day, she came out of the shower naked to the gills. First, I lost the power of speech. All I could say was, “Duh… duh…” Then, I was hit by full-body paralysis. I couldn’t move, but when she told me to apply lotion on her back, I had to act or lose all credibility.

As I was lathering aloe vera all over her soft, supple muscles, all I could think of was telling my friends I had a naked Wanda to myself. Then I thought of how much they'd laugh at me once they knew all I did was massage her back. Wanda solved the issue for me.

“If you weren’t gay,” she said, “I could swear I feel your erection digging into me.”

Now was my time to get back into the closet, so to speak. “To be honest, Wanda, when I’m with you, I don’t feel gay. Actually, I think you cured me.”

It didn’t end well, my friend. Wanda said she’d forgiven me, but I should return the favour and strip for her. When I was butt naked, the door burst open, half the girls’ hostel poured into my room. As they all laughed, someone stole my clothes, and I had to walk home in the nude. The entire three kilometres.

Lesson learned.

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