Mr. Krabs' Shell

By jamie Lamae

The following piece was submitted through The Rival’s pride submission drive. Jamie (any) is a freshman who majors in WGSS. He enjoys an excessive amount of concerts and trying new coffee places around DC.

let’s set the scene: I am sitting on the N2 bus somewhere in embassy row. in my airpods, car seat headrest is blasting in order to somehow flush out the terrible sexual encounter I just had. I went all the way down to gw for nothing. I do not feel present. I feel like a shell of something. like Mr. Krabs from Spongebob. when his shell shrivels off and what’s left is this little sad thing that Mr. Krabs actually is, what crabs are under their shell. some places on my body have a burning partial burning sensation. namely my ribs? why did she give me a hickey there? who does that?

all this to say I have a point that I have not gotten to yet. I met this girl on bumble. I know bad. however, I knew it would be bad and still did it. when she first saw me, I’m wearing my yellow shorts, white crew, and white shoes. somewhat of a good outfit. she asked if I was gay. I say no, and that I am straight. and she says “are you sure? you have good style and a high voice and act a little more effeminate than other men.” I say that yes I am indeed sure I am straight. why else would I be here to fuck you. I say that trying to figure out in my mind how to explain my gender as being genderqueer. how do I explain to this cishet girl what this is? how do I tell her that I do not believe pronouns (in the English language) exist to describe and affirm my gender experience? more importantly, how do I not confuse her?

my second and main point/question: how do I navigate tinder or bumble or hinge or whichever other dating app that is ubiquitous in the college experience, being genderqueer but straight? I feel it is a small bit unfair to be lumped in with the body of tinder men who are cishet and some are gross. I am not cis. but, I am straight and have been socialized in a place that practices compulsory cishetness. Is it fair to lump me into the body of straight tinder men? I don’t know, maybe it is. On tinder dates, though, it is very fun to make a little bet with myself about how long it will take her to ask if I am gay. another bet for whether she will ask if I am gay or bi. fun fact: those are not the only two options. it is even more fun when she does not believe me when I say I am straight. I do not even mention my gender because I tend to present myself as more masculine on tinder dates because presenting more fem or androgynous would only confuse her. on a typical tinder date here is what happens: I text her and say I am wherever we are meeting. she comes, says hi, looks at me, and judges my outfit with her eyes. we then talk about music and movies and I share my newly made letterboxd username. she judges my taste in films and music. a good amount of which has been coded as gay. an example of which would be that I listen to a lot of car seat headrest but only questioned my sexuality during one song: “It’s only sex”. questioning if I was asexual or straight. not if I was gay or straight. as if that distinction should even be used. sexuality and gender are so fluid. for example I have been saying I am straight this whole time but there is this cute gay guy in my coffee shop I am romantically attracted to. I hate labels but we have to use them or else it gets confusing for society to put you into a box. anyway back to the date: once we get over music taste and I act pretentious about mine and judge hers, she gives me another look saying “I think you’re gay but I don’t want to ask you because that would be mean”. by this point, I have decided what reward I will get for my bets being correct. we get into talking about her exes. (i have no idea why this happens every time, but it does. my mom is a therapist so I think I learned a tiny bit of thatthrough osmosis) then, I say something like “I am so sorry all these straight men have been so mean to you” as if I am speaking on behalf of the straight man I was socialized to be. then finally, she says “you’re the nicest straight guy I have met on tinder. you also have a personality. are you sure you’re straight?” casually and nonchalantly said. at this point, I have lost my own bet because it has been more than an hour.

after enough of these tinder dates that all go just about the same, as described above. (i omitted the sexual encounters because they go against my point. and we cannot have any that contradicts can we? that was sarcastic I promise.) I start to question why I am straight. why do I carry myself in such as way that is coded as gay and yet I am straight. anyone who has ever met me can attest to how the way I carry myself and exist is coded as gay. every so often because of this, I tell myself there is no possible way I can be straight and that I am deeply closeted even though I have never had any sexual feelings for men. I think I have said everything I need to. nothing is capitalized because that is how I like to write and it feels less formal and academic.