I share a large university-owned flat with eleven other students. Normally I don’t like to socialize very much with my flatmates’ friends—I keep to myself most of the time—but it was towards the end of a lazy Saturday night and wine had loosened me up, so I was more than content to engage in a bit of (tipsy) conversation.
Somehow, while chatting with a flatmate and her male friend, we got on the conversation of porn. I admitted to having watched gay, straight, and lesbian porn before, though I don’t prefer straight porn because it so often veers towards being violent. Hearing what I had said, the one guy in the conversation immediately looked confused—and then smugly comfortable as he told me, “oh, so you don’t know your sexuality.”
I gave him an unimpressed look and dryly asked, “are you serious right now?”
He didn’t backtrack; instead he explained to me confidently why he must be right: “Well I would never watch gay porn. I’m not against it, I just can’t imagine EVER doing that. So you must be confused.”
I didn’t really correct him; I felt no need to prove to some idiot acquaintance that I know my own damn sexuality, especially since it’s something I usually keep quite private. I just gave him another withering look and a cold “wow” before ignoring him and talking to my flatmate instead, who looked exasperated and embarrassed on her friend’s behalf.
Later in the conversation he wanted to know why we were being so cold and abrupt with him. Even when I told him he could have just apologized so we would all move on and forget about it, he only seemed further affronted and confused as to why we (two college-aged women) were tired of his presence.