
I teach in a discipline that gay men aren't typically drawn to, in a college that gay men aren't typically drawn to, so out of the 100 or so guys in my classes every semester, I expected only a few to be gay.
But when the professor is gay, word gets around, and students enroll in your classes because they think you'll be a sympathetic voice. And when you have a physique, they enroll just to look at you.
So, as it turns out, I get a lot of gay male students, especially in the big intro classes.
It's inevitable that we'll see each other occasionally on Grindr and other dating apps. We follow an unwritten rule of ignoring each other.
Sometimes I don't recognize them -- it's at the beginning of the semester, when I don't know all the faces yet, or their profile pic isn't their face -- but after a few minutes, I figure out who they are, and go dark or keep the conversation friendly.
When the fall 2015 semester began, I went on Grindr every night, to check out the new freshmen and their profiles. Since older approaching younger comes off as creepy, I waited for them to approach me.

But disappointingly, one guy with a very cute profile pic didn't approach me. He was Reynard (not his real name), 18 years old, a theater arts major who "lived for singing and dancing," and liked video games and cosplay. He was looking for "Mr. Right, but Mr. Right Now is ok."
I almost approached him, but decided against it. I had enough guys on my hook-up list for the week. I could do without him.
On Friday, I flew out to Salt Lake City for my ex-boyfriend's wedding. I returned on Monday, and didn't get back on Grindr until Tuesday.
I initiated chats with guys I already knew, and negotiated the usual batch of "Hi!" and "Do me, Daddy!" Then I noticed a picture of a boy bulging in ballet tights, probably in The Nutcracker. From Reynard!
The full story, with nude photos and sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.