In the absence of clues to the contrary, most of us expect a random person we meet or hear about to be het, if we think about their orientation at all.
I'd say that this is a pretty accurate description of me, especially the part about "if we even think about their orientation at all." I don't usually think about a person's orientation, unless I'm interested and I'm trying to figure out if they're attracted to me. Otherwise, I don't consider it to be particularly relevant.
I'm somewhat more likely to make an assumption about somebody's orientation if they do something incredibly blatantly stereotypical. I'll probably make an assumption if I've met the person they're dating. I suppose, in those cases, I should try to keep more in mind that the person might still be bi.
I have noticed that I sometimes subconsciously assume that people are het, but I don't realize it unless it somehow comes up in conversation. I had one friend at work who always referred to her "honey." I assumed that her honey was male - in part because my friend's manager would use male pronouns when making conversation (Friend: "I saw my honey this weekend!" Manager: "How is he doing?"). It never occurred to me that her manager had just made a gender assumption; I thought he knew, perhaps from having met my friend's honey at a company outing.
It wasn't until I got to know my friend a little better that I happened to ask her, just out of curiosity, "What's your honey's name?" Her answer was, "Um... uh... Nancy." Oh. Ok. Oops. She thought I might not take it well, but I only felt a bit surprised to have been wrong all that time. I don't know if my friend ever let anyone else on the project know that her honey was female. We did get a lot of good chuckles over the project manager, though, who insisted repeatedly, "I've NEVER met a gay person in my life." We would ask him, "How do you know? Maybe you have and you just didn't know it?" "I would know," he would reply, in all seriousness. He was a jerk in oh, so many ways.
A couple of years later, this same friend and another friend from work, who were working together at the time, asked me, independently but on the same day, whether another coworker was gay. I had never given it any consideration. I didn't have any reason to think that he was. I had some reason to think that he wasn't - he'd told me once that he'd thought he was going to marry a girl he'd dated in high school, but that she'd dropped contact with him during college. I just couldn't answer the question, at all, and settled for, "I have no idea."
I've always find it a bit strange when people ask me about somebody else's orientation. How should I know?
A couple of years ago, one of my cousins, when she heard that one of our other cousins (my favorite cousin) had a girlfriend, commented that his family probably felt relieved, because she and her siblings had always thought that he was gay. I asked her, "Why would you think that? Did he tell you?" He hadn't, but she was just sure that she was right. "Every family has it's gay person," she said, "and in ours, it's him." Even my sweetie said, "You have to admit, he is kind of effeminate."
I was shocked. Not so much that he might be gay, but that she would have not only thought about it, but discussed it with her siblings. It had never occurred to me to wonder about the orientation of any of my cousins. As for my favorite cousin, I have to admit that it's hard for me to think of my sweet baby cousin as gay. Yes, there may be a bit of denial in there, but I think it's largely because I'd never thought of the possibility before, and because he's never given me a concrete reason to think that he is. Heck, it's hard for me to think of my sweet baby cousin as having a love life, never mind with whom. In any case, I figure that if he's gay and wants me to know, he'll tell me. If he doesn't tell me, it's not really my business, anyway.
I usually think of a two-dimensional system with attraction-to-men on one axis and attraction-to-women on the other and a warning label floating over one of the quadrants reminding us that it's still a simplification for convenience, not a complete model of reality.)
When I worked at the local KFC one summer between my freshman and senior years, when I had just come out to myself as bi, I once scared the heck out of a manager... He informed me, after a "stereotypically gay" man had left the restaurant, that he could "always tell that kind." I smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, really? Would you have guessed me?" I think I made him choke. I don't think he ever believed me.
Your story is pretty funny, and you've reminded me of something else. The project manager with the conviction that he'd never met a gay person was from Romania. Maybe that had something to do with his attitude? I would guess that it was pretty oppressive towards gays, especially in the 60s and 70s, when he lived there. Just thinking about this project manager being from Romania, however, reminded me of how the topic of gays ever came up in the office. We learned that a new guy was going to join our project, and his first name was -- I kid you not -- Dyke.
The first couple of times the project manager mentioned the new person's name (before Dyke actually started working on the project), most of the other people on the team couldn't help expressing disbelief over the name ("Dyke? Did you say Dyke?" *snerk*), in part because the project manager obviously had no idea what the word meant. Finally, he asked us, "What? What's so funny about that name?" I thought he was going to pass out when we told him. He turned bright red. After that, he almost couldn't say Dyke's name, tentatively stuttering it out every time he had to say it.
(For the record, Dyke turned out to be a tall, married black man from Africa, arrogant, and a terrible co-worker)
(no subject)
I'd say that this is a pretty accurate description of me, especially the part about "if we even think about their orientation at all." I don't usually think about a person's orientation, unless I'm interested and I'm trying to figure out if they're attracted to me. Otherwise, I don't consider it to be particularly relevant.
I'm somewhat more likely to make an assumption about somebody's orientation if they do something incredibly blatantly stereotypical. I'll probably make an assumption if I've met the person they're dating. I suppose, in those cases, I should try to keep more in mind that the person might still be bi.
I have noticed that I sometimes subconsciously assume that people are het, but I don't realize it unless it somehow comes up in conversation. I had one friend at work who always referred to her "honey." I assumed that her honey was male - in part because my friend's manager would use male pronouns when making conversation (Friend: "I saw my honey this weekend!" Manager: "How is he doing?"). It never occurred to me that her manager had just made a gender assumption; I thought he knew, perhaps from having met my friend's honey at a company outing.
It wasn't until I got to know my friend a little better that I happened to ask her, just out of curiosity, "What's your honey's name?" Her answer was, "Um... uh... Nancy." Oh. Ok. Oops. She thought I might not take it well, but I only felt a bit surprised to have been wrong all that time. I don't know if my friend ever let anyone else on the project know that her honey was female. We did get a lot of good chuckles over the project manager, though, who insisted repeatedly, "I've NEVER met a gay person in my life." We would ask him, "How do you know? Maybe you have and you just didn't know it?" "I would know," he would reply, in all seriousness. He was a jerk in oh, so many ways.
A couple of years later, this same friend and another friend from work, who were working together at the time, asked me, independently but on the same day, whether another coworker was gay. I had never given it any consideration. I didn't have any reason to think that he was. I had some reason to think that he wasn't - he'd told me once that he'd thought he was going to marry a girl he'd dated in high school, but that she'd dropped contact with him during college. I just couldn't answer the question, at all, and settled for, "I have no idea."
I've always find it a bit strange when people ask me about somebody else's orientation. How should I know?
A couple of years ago, one of my cousins, when she heard that one of our other cousins (my favorite cousin) had a girlfriend, commented that his family probably felt relieved, because she and her siblings had always thought that he was gay. I asked her, "Why would you think that? Did he tell you?" He hadn't, but she was just sure that she was right. "Every family has it's gay person," she said, "and in ours, it's him." Even my sweetie said, "You have to admit, he is kind of effeminate."
I was shocked. Not so much that he might be gay, but that she would have not only thought about it, but discussed it with her siblings. It had never occurred to me to wonder about the orientation of any of my cousins. As for my favorite cousin, I have to admit that it's hard for me to think of my sweet baby cousin as gay. Yes, there may be a bit of denial in there, but I think it's largely because I'd never thought of the possibility before, and because he's never given me a concrete reason to think that he is. Heck, it's hard for me to think of my sweet baby cousin as having a love life, never mind with whom. In any case, I figure that if he's gay and wants me to know, he'll tell me. If he doesn't tell me, it's not really my business, anyway.
I usually think of a two-dimensional system with attraction-to-men on one axis and attraction-to-women on the other and a warning label floating over one of the quadrants reminding us that it's still a simplification for convenience, not a complete model of reality.)
I like this concept a lot.
Re:
He informed me, after a "stereotypically gay" man had left the restaurant, that he could "always tell that kind." I smiled sweetly and said, "Oh, really? Would you have guessed me?" I think I made him choke. I don't think he ever believed me.
Re:
The first couple of times the project manager mentioned the new person's name (before Dyke actually started working on the project), most of the other people on the team couldn't help expressing disbelief over the name ("Dyke? Did you say Dyke?" *snerk*), in part because the project manager obviously had no idea what the word meant. Finally, he asked us, "What? What's so funny about that name?" I thought he was going to pass out when we told him. He turned bright red. After that, he almost couldn't say Dyke's name, tentatively stuttering it out every time he had to say it.
(For the record, Dyke turned out to be a tall, married black man from Africa, arrogant, and a terrible co-worker)