When I first moved to Rock Island at the start of third grade, there was a cute boy in my class named Danny, who wore a leg brace.
On the first day of class, Miss Johnson pointed him out, and asked for a volunteer to be his "special friend" to carry his books and lunch tray, and play "quiet games" with him at recess.
A boy named Jimmy shot his hand up. Danny grinned at him -- apparently they were already "special friends."
But I raised my hand, too, and for some reason Miss Johnson granted me the honor -- maybe she thought that the new kid needed friends, too
Danny gamely accepted my attentions through the year, while his friend Jimmy sat nearby, glaring at me.
Since then I've noticed that, in gay communities, there is heavy competition for men who are disabled: blind, deaf, on crutches, in a wheelchair.
There are several explanations:
1. Being physically different makes you stand out in the crowd, and seem more attractive.
2. Guys are curious about your sexual appetites and interest.
3. They want to be your "knight in shining armor," protecting you from the bad things in the world.
4. They are hung up over minor imperfections of their own, such as belly fat or acne scars, and they believe that you will be more accepting.
But however many guys clamor to go home with you, few are willing to stick around the next day, begin a romantic relationship, and participate in your daily struggles with accessibility and visibility.
So disabled guys tend to be a little leery of romantic overtures. They may even try to scare you off by describing their daily maintenance routine on the first date.
That may have been a problem with my date with Tommy the Blind Guy.
I saw him at the Columbus Metropolitan Community Church one Sunday morning in March 2006: In his 20s, shorter than me, pale, with short brown hair and a solid, muscular frame -- plus religious! Three of the five traits I find attractive. He walked arm-in-arm with a friend, so I assumed he was taken. But during the coffee hour after church, the friend, Marcus, left him eating doughnuts by himself to cruise someone on the other side of the room. Therefore, single!
The next weekend, we saw The Libertine (yes, blind people go to movies), followed by dinner at a Mediterranean restaurant.
You would think that Tommy would be tired of being asked questions about "what it's like to be blind," but he told me in detail how he ate, how he shaved, how he found his way around a strange room.
How he judged a guy's physical characteristics without having to reach out and touch them:
"If he has a strong handshake, that means he has nice biceps."
"The angle of his voice when we're talking tells me his height and weight."
His weight?
"I can figure out whether he's hung by listening to him urinate."
No way!
It turned out to be less a date than a lecture from Blind 101 class.
After dinner, we went back to the apartment he shared with Marcus.
Gifted beneath the belt! Another plus.
But for the day to day tasks of a romantic relationship, I needed more than a cute face and a nice-sized endowment. Did he have any other interests?
The gym? There have been several blind bodybuilders, like Greg Rando Not really. He did a little jogging.
Pets? Seeing eye dog? No. I get along fine with a cane.
Religion? I go to MCC for the companionship, but I'm not really into it.
Paranormal? You believe in that nonsense?
Literature? Dickens? Stephen King. I don't read a lot.
Um...politics? Not really.
Music?
That got a rise out of him. Oh, I love Cher, Madonna, Barbra Streisand...
Rihanna, Gwen Stefani, Kelly Clarkson.
Any classical in that mix? A little Mozart here and there?
Jessica Simpson, Mariah Carey, Jennifer Lopez...
Opera? Jazz? I'll even take show tunes...
Christina Aguilera, Carrie Underwood, Beyonce...
Ok, how about a male performer? At least somebody for me to look at -- Justin Timberlake, maybe?
Ok, how about a male performer? At least somebody for me to look at -- Justin Timberlake, maybe?
The Pussycat Dolls, Ciara, Fergie...