The Secret Language of Gays


Have you seen this hilarious video about the casual opulence of being gay?

My straight frat boy coworker giggled over the video and asked me if there’s any truth to the fabulous routine of gestures and looks that these gay men exchange. Watching the video I found myself loooviiinnng it and pondering, what is the secret language gay men share with each other when we think no one else [read: straight] is watching?

This led me to observe and document three subtle interactions from my morning commute through New York City.

Interaction One: Urban Cat Walk

My outfit complete, I sashay down the stairs and into the fray of the morning masses waiting along the subway platform. I scan the nearest 30 human beings for objects of desire and pinpoint three standouts. Quickly and covertly I assess each one before selecting the man I want to admire. I land on the lad with tight Adidas pants and a mustache that’s just a shade darker and a length longer than the rest of his scruffy beard.

He stands stationary about 20 feet away looking down the tunnel for the train while I walk towards him taking advantage of the distance to study him without him knowing exactly where I’m looking. I know he’s doing exactly the same thing. As I close the distance between us, he turns his rough cheek to me and I drift by with the subtlest of growls.

Walking away from scruff-stache , I turn around at regular intervals and pretend to watch for oncoming trains while actually visually soaking up his handsome juices. He twirls in place fighting his desire to observe me while also not wanting to come off as “too cruisy.”

Interaction Two: Enclosed Spaces

Arriving at the 59th St. station, I lock eyes through the window of the train with a sexy young man leaning exquisitely against a pillar. I know immediately that he will enter through the door near me — even though it’s not the closest for him — because the 1.2 seconds of eye contact we made is enough to begin the dance.

He struts onto the train and to a pole a few feet away from me while casually fingering his phone. I readjust my bag and chance a glance at his hair, face, and shoes. His cold blue eyes brush my neck and cheek and I break into a smile at his light, hungry touches. The train begins to move and we both circle the car with our eyes before ending back up on each other, eyes dilated, pulse quickening.

Four stops come and go and at each one we look up to see if the other is exiting. I feel like I’m coming up for air each time and inhale a deep fill of man. At the next stop he departs with the simplest of acknowledgements and leaves the train never looking back.

Interaction Three: Brief Encounter

Walking up the stairs to street level, I position myself directly behind the gorgeous behind of a man with a sharp high and tight haircut. His backpack pulls at his shirt and an inch of underwear waistband peeks out from his pants. At each step his cheeks shift and my field of vision is blissfully filled with nothing but firm roundness pushing at the thin material. These stairs could last forever.

Heavy foot traffic stops us and I’m pinned inches from his muscle butt. People shift and I’m suddenly shoved into the man who partially turns around to see who’s running into him. I grunt out a quick apology, speaking less out of courtesy and more to exclaim my presence to him.

As we finally breach into sunlight, I watch his ass shake away down the street and stare longingly at the back of his head. I’m not even sure if he was gay.