Little known fact: Today is Celebrate Bisexuality Day. I don't know about you, but I plan to do nothing but. If anything deserves celebrating, it's that particularly quirky triumph of evolution that allows a person to have their cake and eat it, too. Or have two cakes of the opposite sex. Or something. I still have trouble with cake cliches.
Not that I am bisexual. No, the gods withheld and as such I have only slightly more than half of the human pool to choose from, as if the pickin's weren't already slim enough.
But today isn't about me. Today we celebrate those among us who are blessed with ultimate choice, those lucky souls not tethered within the stereotypes of "straight" or "gay," those unconcerned with whether a person's plumbing is innie or outie.
Bisexuals don't even have to bother with those silly "if I were gay" proclamations. You know, where girls say Angelina Jolie and guys say Brad Pitt, thereby exposing all of our insecurities about our physical selves (full disclosure: Eddie Vedder.) Bisexuals just have one big awesome Christmas list of good-looking people that doesn't discriminate based on sex.
Just imagine (for those of us classified as unisexual) if anytime you stepped onto an elevator or went to the gym or sat in the waiting room at Jiffy Lube, every person around you would be fair game. Sure, in your mind you'd still eliminate people from your roster of potential lays based on physical differentiation as an indicator of genetic viability, such as all the people at Jiffy Lube and anyone else with their name stitched onto their shirt, but you'd have the luxury of not having sides picked for you from the outset. And I'm not talking about genetic viability as it relates to procreation; I just mean genetic viability as it relates to having a good time, because obviously half of the potential hook-ups are going to be evolutionary dead-ends anyway.
Which is great, really. Assuming a person were bisexual right down the middle (Is that how it works? Can you lean one way or the other? Is it sort of like how I prefer Coke but I'll drink Pepsi if I have to?), that means that fully half of their sexual encounters would have zero chance of creating another hungry mouth that's just going to end up in front of me at the bank one day with a bag full of unrolled pennies. And that is a good thing. No, the bisexual community doesn't have the sterling record of the 100% homo, 0% reproduction community on this count, but it sure beats the rest of us cranking 'em out at a rate of well over a million a week, net gain.
But that's statistics, and this fine day is all about celebrating, even if the celebratory mood is somewhat sullied by an undercurrent of jealousy about one's lot in life, if that lot happens to include an alarming lack of options regarding sexual attraction. If homosexuality is a curse, then heterosexuality must be too, with bisexuality the universe's gift of a free, all-u-can-eat buffet for the lucky chosen few. Do I wish I were bisexual? No, but it would have been nice to have had the choice. No one even asked my opinion. I'm stuck with women.