I’m in my teeny dressing room right now, daydreaming about my hot female co-stars (I won’t mention names coughallofthemcough), thinking about the personal irony of playing “Val.”

See, I have a “recurring role” on “All My Children.”  For those of you who don’t know what a recurring role is — it’s a character who’s on the show sometimes, but isn’t really good looking enough to be on the show all the time.  I know I’m a good-looking guy (my mom told me so), but apparently producers and writers think there’s only so much of “me” an audience can look at week to week.

Being a recurring character is actually kind of a great gig for an actor.  Sure there’s less fame and money, but it frees up time for cool things like picking my nose, jerking off, and watching Batman reruns.  You know, Tuesdays.

It ironic because even though I have a crush on my female co-star, I play a homosexual on the soap.  In the soap world, apparently, I’m not that great looking AND I’m not that straight looking.

Even though I’m not gay, when they made me the offer, I took it.  I don’t mean “I took it!” — I wasn’t Robert DeNiro method acting the role — I mean I needed the money, so… crap, that doesn’t sound right either… you know what I mean….

I originated this role 10 years ago in New York.  One thing I learned about the crazy world of soap fans is that the people watching take these shows very seriously.  They think YOU are the character.  So much so that I would get hate mail — letters sent to my personal home address every week saying things like, “Young man, you are going to burn in the fires of eternal damnation unless you change your goddamn lifestyle!”

After a while, I decided to write back:

“Dear Dad, I’m just acting.  I know you wanted me to be an engineer… Why don’t you love me?”

…okay, so Dave Dawes never did, in fact, write me.  But he’s very much a Red-stater, though, and very much uncomfortable with anything involving ass banditry.  Truth be told, I did, in fact, get a couple of letters from folks who, shall we say, jumped off the high dive into the shallow end of the gene pool (read:  also Red-staters).

I’m looking at my clothes in the mirror wondering why gay guys have to wear such tight clothes?  It seems like some shirts only come in a size gay.  What’s the correlation between tight shirts and loose buttholes?

I hope my co-star still gets I’m straight.  I’m torn about random people thinking I’m gay.  On the one hand, when straight people think I’m gay, it annoys me.  (Does that mean I should stop rollerblading around in cutoff denim shorts and tank tops?  Really?)  On the flip side, when gay men think I’m straight, I also get self-conscious:  “Am I getting fat?”

Speaking of getting fat, I joined CRUNCH fitness recently, where everyone seems to be gay or gay-adjacent.  Even the guys working  the juice bar.  It makes me a tad paranoid.  “Hmmm…. I’m gonna watch you make that smoothie… What’s that?  No, no protein boost! NO PROTEIN BOOST!”

The other day, I was doing bicep curls and this handsome guy was staring at me.  In my 20’s, when gay men checked me out, I’d think “Do I look gay?  Am I giving off a gay vibe?  Am I latently gay?”  Now I’m in my 30’s and when gay guy look at me, I just think “I still got it!”   So, I went from furious to flattered in about four seconds.

To be honest, for the briefest of moments, his stare turned me a little gay.  Not permanently, but for a couple puckers of my butthole, I felt “Faaaaaaaabulous!”  I went from working my bi’s to turning bi.  I started jonesing for a whistle and disco ball, and before you know it, I was configuring window treatments in my head.

As I left the gym in my tank top, freshly swollen biceps, designer smoothie in hand, I caught eyes with a hot girl entering, who, in turn, completely ignored me.  I realized that I must have looked gayer than a vat of Kevin Spacey to her.  Maybe I shouldn’t have tied the bottom of my tank top into a knot.  Hmmmmm….

But herein lies the rub:  How do you take care of yourself and look good for women, without doing things that might make you look like women make you go ‘Ew!’:

Let’s face it — everything a man does to LOOK better is pretty much gay:

1. Expensive haircut (over $50) — kind of gay.
2. Going to the gym — getting to be gayer and gayer.
3. Going to the spa and tanning — pretty goddamned gay there, buddy.
4. Manicure/ Pedicure — Tom Cruise gay.
5. Getting eyebrows waxed — extra gay with a side of penis.
6. Getting chest waxed — extra gay with a side of penis with man gravy poured on top.
7. Shopping at Banana Republic - you are doing “the walrus” on Adam Lambert and Lance Bass and singing Broadway show tunes while you read this sentence.

Shopping at Banana Republic might be the epitome of this paradox.  Their cashmere blends are shnazzy and just expensive enough to make you feel like you actually have a positive net worth.  But, you can’t walk into the store without tripping over a cock!  Plus, those v-neck wearing workers there are just so damn nice, that it almost makes you wish you were gay!

I mean, you ask a gay guy at “The BR” for a particular pair of slacks and he starts running around the store like Lamar doing the javelin throw in Revenge of the Nerds:  “Oh my God!  I think we might have JUST run out!  What size are you?  We have a similar pant in a slate gray and another chino version but that’s pleated, and I’m sure you only do flat front, so let me run into the storeroom and check and see, but if we don’t have it here, I’ll call over to our nearest location to see if they have it.  Since you’ve been so patient here’s a Caramel Frappucino, and a coupon for 20 percent off your next penis — I mean purchase!  I’ll be right back!  Sit down while Hector gives you a back rub!”

So why should I be offended if I get cast gay sometimes?  I mean, gay guys always look happy (hence the origin of the “gay” moniker — true story); they always dress well; and they always, and inexplicably, have tons of money — even though they only work in retail or Human Resources!  You know why?  They’re not spending money on bitches!  Eat it, feminists!

I mean, has there ever been a poor pole smoker?  Maybe, but when’s the last time you saw a gay HOMELESS person?  Have you ever been walking down the street and seen a guy jiggling a cup and shouting, “Spare Cha-heyyyyyyyyyyyy-ange!”

To make matters worse, almost everything a man does to make a woman happy is considered “gay” by other men:  Snuggling, cuddling, spooning, or any derivation thereof;  watching TLC programming or any show that has the word “makeover” in the title;  shopping ANYWHERE; listening.

At this point, there’s not much left for straight people.  We’ve still got fantasy football and murder; I think those are mostly our gigs, still.  Oh yeah, also nose-picking and Batman reruns.

So here I am, in my dressing room at ‘ALL MY CHILDREN,’ about to go on tape as Val, Erica Kane’s loyal and longtime gay assistant.  I have a little lip gloss, some make-up, a nice Ellen Degeneris coif.  Plus, a v-neck cashmere-blend sweater from the Banana republic.  I look fab.  But, in my mind, I get to go to the Fusion office and flirt with the beautiful and charming Stephanie…

… and ACTION!  Time to snap off the light and go to set…. Well, not ‘snap!’ off the light…. ‘turn’ off the light… you know what I mean…

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