Metrosexuality Is Not My Thing

Names have been changed to protect the integrity of the guilty.

"Hello Jezebella. Is Balaam there?"

"Hi, Commentator. No, he's not. He went to get a pedicure."

Silence.

"Hello?"

"Ped, Pedi...?"

"...cure. What's wrong, Comm?"

"Why?"

" You're buddy is a metrosexual didn't you know?"

And so went the conversation with the wife of a close friend.

I'm a throwback to another time - so I'm often told. I'm also often accused of being too reserved. For the record, I've been described (by family members) as being a hybrid between Seinfeld and Ray Barone with a Keanu Reeves/Pierce Brosnan look. Actually, my alleged similar features to Brosnan was the observations of a girl who I was madly in love with between the ages of 14-17. She told me I looked like 'Remington Steele." Never watched the show. I was more of an A-Team guy.

As for Reeves, whatever. I guess it's accurate. Here's why. When I was in Whistler (that's in BC) in 1995, my buddies and I were walking around on the prowl when a cluster of gals descended upon us mad and drunk as hell. It was a bachelorette party and the sloshed bride to be put her arms around me and said, "You look like Keanu Reeves and planted a big, intoxicated big one on my lips. So if an alien drunk chick says so it has to be right.

Personally, I think I look like this guy.

Anyway, that story with her is a long one and best kept under wraps. Let's just say she owes me a night of passionate love-making.

Ok. So my mother and sister claim I'm a Seinfeld/Barone hybrid - to which my friends confirm. One girl I dated in university said I was enigmatic. Another wrote a poem about my "mysterious aura." Her poem was published in a prominent poetry book. Imagine that. Me, The Commentator a subject of a romantic poem.

Gosh, these past few posts I've been letting some things out of the bag. It's not in my nature to do so but what the hell.

Come to think of it, all this does explain, in part, why I've refused to define this blog in any specific way. Maybe I'm running away from something. Perhaps this blog says more about me than I care to even understand.

Pass the hearts of palm.

Back to the conversation and the metrosexual revelation. I still struggle with the fact that I can't call some of my buddies and ask them to go for a spontaneous sausage sandwich. Everything needs to be planned and scripted with them. They can't seem to take and make decisions without consulting and clearing it with their wives.

So when I found out my friend goes out and...and...I can't say it. When I heard about this, this ritual I thought about the womanification of man.

I'm cool with a man getting in touch with the so-called "feminine" side. We all secretly wish to be women...you know, so that we can get some lesbian action. I'm not one of those guys who has to hang out with the boys. I'm more of an outsider; a loner. I've never really fit into any organization or group. No, I wasn't a Goth or nerd. I was popular I must say. I hung out with the alleged "cool" people and did all the "cool" people things. Though I wasn't as cool as The Fonz.

I not only hung out with English-speaking Quebecers but French-Canadians as well. I led a double-life of sorts. After all, both sides come with their own sets of rules and batteries.

Despite my internal issues with social gatherings I managed to adapt for brief periods of time.

Put it to you another way. When I played soccer I was a great team mate. I did everything with the team within the confines of the game. But beyond that I didn't par take in any social activities where I didn't need to. From what I know of these baseball players, I was kinda like Bill Lea or Mike Marshall. I didn't feel the need to congregate.

Same thing in the corporate setting. I was a good worker (when I wasn't challenging authority) but don't ask me to go have a drink after work. I did occasionally but my preferences were elsewhere. The truth is that social settings in large groups left/leave me uncomfortable. I get easily distracted and don't enjoy holding several superficial civil conversations. I prefer a one on one setting.

My buddy, the metro, is the ultimate social butterfly. A regular Sinatra/Valentino. I'm the complete opposite. We were quite the pair in University. Yet, despite the huge differences we've been close since the age of four. He's always been baffled by my behavior. He can't figure it out. He wishes the person he sees in private is displayed publicly. The TC in public is completely different than the one in private.

I don't know why people are so perplexed by it. The reality is that I protect my space and allow few people in it.

Let's just say it hasn't been easy.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, my friend is a metrosexual. This wasn't news to me. It's just that hearing it left an impression on me. It makes you realize just how different you are.

Next on The Commentator: What I think about men exposing their toes in public.

Taw-taw.