Annals of Interpersonal Interaction: Eye Contact

Everyone makes eye contact. Take the nouns men and women, add the adjectives gay and straight, and then imagine all the combinations that are possible.  Eye contact can be accidental, incidental, and fortuitous.

What matters isn’t whose eyes you happen to have affixed on your horizon, but what you do once it seems like there’s no one else around.

Last night, I went out to find a YooHoo retailer near my house, which is a surprisingly difficult task. I decided to start by walking north on Guerrero toward market, stopping in at all of the  convenience stores at the corner along the way. At 18^th, I switched to Church, and at 16^th and Church I made contact.

I hope this doesn’t sound like a Craigslist Missed Connection, but I’m telling a story about connections that were missed.  A lithe, bearded, hipster gay was strolling down the sidewalk, talking on his iPhone, attempting to make eye contact with me from twenty-yards out. As we got closer, the gaze didn’t aver, but we were on separate journeys: he had a phone call, I had a date with destiny.

As we passed by, he hooked his way nearer to me, talking more on his phone, curling into my orbit. As he passed we were close enough for cheeks to graze one another, and by of our heads turned to hold onto the contact as long as possible. That was a game well played, lithe hipster-gay.

Much better played than the Australian who made eye contact, averted his gaze, and then as he passed by said “Looking good, mate.” And certainly better than the awkward straight girl stares, an experience defined by a girl looking me up and down, smiling, making eye contact, and then expecting something in return. I will befriend anything that moves, as most people know, but not if I’m moving.

The worst is eye contact with straight men, which always feels aggressive, as though the gaze is meant to remove me from existence. This is not because straight men are homophobic, but because the eye contact was probably accidental or incidental, and then all parties put up their defenses to prevent either party from getting the wrong idea. It’s exhausting.

I could have another run in with lithe hipster gay, though. Who doesn’t want to pass cheek to cheek.