Did I ever mention that the adage, “If it ain’t one thing, it’s something else” will be the title of my future autobiography? Because it seems to apply more to my life than anything else.

A few weeks ago, I attended the going away party of one of my co-workers. It was typical college-aged house party, and while I was initially surprised by how wild the party got considering how meek and conservative my co-worker was, there was something else that was even more surprising:

There were a lot of tall guys there.

Now, you should know that I’m 6’4, and while I don’t have anything against shorter guys, I feel like I date them because I have no choice. I have always dreamed of meeting that unicorn guy who was both my height AND interested in me. In fact, I’ve always said that the taller the guy, the lower my standards…heh heh

I’m used to encountering maybe one other guy my height at a party, and we’d acknowledge each other with a nod from across the room, sharing that instant camaraderie that only tall people can have. But at this party there were at LEAST 5 guys in my height range besides me. And they were ALL attractive. It was glorious. I figured none of them were gay, but it was just nice having some lanky eye-candy to drunkenly pine after.

But there was this one particular guy who may not have been as gay as I’d thought. He and I wound up in the same group conversation a few times when the party was at its peak. And, towards the end of the night (read: 3AM), we somehow ended up tucked in a corner of the room, chatting by ourselves. It was one of those drunken party conversations where you’re not really talking about anything in particular, but you keep talking because the company you’re in makes it so easy. It wasn’t until I began trying to leave and he kept asking me to stay  that I realized he might not be as straight as I originally pegged him, but, classic me, I was too shy to come right out and ask him about it. After three attempts, I finally managed to get my coat on to leave, but only after he made me promise him that I’d facebook him as soon as I got home. Which I did.

Only, he never facebooked me back.

I wasn’t upset about it, I chalked his behavior at the party up to him just not wanting to be alone at a party full of strangers, and the facebook invite as him being polite, and went on about my life.

And then, this past Monday, right as I was ending my shift at the coffee shop where I work, he walked in with a friend. It was a pleasant surprise, considering he didn’t know the co-worker who had hosted the party. We struck up another conversation – apparently, he doesn’t check his facebook often and has almost 100 friend requests to sort through. He apologized profusely and convinced me that he wasn’t just trying to be nice that night.

And then he asked for my phone number, and invited me to a poetry reading he’s having at his house this Friday.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I know right!? Fate!

There’s just one tiny possible problem. Something that I’ve left out of this guy’s description until now because I still don’t know how I feel about it, and something that my co-workers were only so eager to point out:

“Hey Brandon, was that the guy you were talking about? The one from [co-worker]’s party?”

“Yeah…”

“*snicker*”

“What?”

“You realize that he looks exactly like you, right?”

“Well, there’s some resemblance, I suppose…”

“Some resemblance? You guys could be twins! Your brother just asked you out! That’s so creepy!”

And there you have it. This guy that I met at the party, had a nice conversation with and who apparently was interested in me more than platonically…also happens to look enough like me to be mistaken for my brother. Those conversations we were both in? Were ALL about how alike we looked. And I have to admit that there’s more than a passing resemblance. We’re both not just black, but the exact same skin tone; both 6’4 with the same body type, same oval-shaped face, same bushy eyebrows and the same afro/dred hair style. I wouldn’t say we were twins, but even I had to admit that we looked enough alike to be reasonably mistaken for brothers. Every characteristic of mine that usually made me unique in a room full of people he also shared.

If it ain’t one thing, it’s something else…

And I realized that, although I subconsciously base my perceptions of relationships on a heterosexual benchmark (I can’t help it, it’s what I’m surrounded by), what I’ve encountered now is an exclusively homosexual issue. Sure, we’ve all seen those heterosexual relationships where the couple shared similar features and, in another life, could be related. But the difference in gender was always there to keep the similarities in physical appearance from getting too weird. The gender barrier doesn’t exist in the gay world. No, it just becomes one more similarity to toss into the already uncomfortably big pile of similarities, which leads me to the question:

Could I date a guy that looked exactly like me? Should I?

Not only that, but suppose he really does want to pursue something, what does that say about him? And what if we date, and things possibly go further. Could I kiss a guy who, even in my mind, looked like me? Could I touch a guy who looked like me without it feeling like narcistic masturbation taken to the next level? Could I have sex with him without feeling like I was having sex with myself? I mean – do enough of that already.

I think I’ll go to his poetry reading this Friday, and see how things naturally progress. I mean, so far our similar appearances haven’t stopped him from pursuing me, so maybe I’m just thinking about this too much. But I can’t deny it, If I can’t get over how alike we look soon…I don’t think I could date him.

To the people who read my blog and feel inclined to comment…what do you think?

Tagged as: 21 Day Brainstorm Blogging Project, advice, men, Ramblings, That's...odd