Politics of Position

Virgil is enduring a tedious conference when a respite comes in the form of a flirtatious fellow businessman. Soon, the two are in a hotel room alone and the mystery man makes a move. Virgil resists, but is tempted because his new pal is offering to bottom - something Virgil hasn't gotten in elephant years because his boyfriend is a total top.

These characters are in author Michael-Christopher's novel From Top To Bottom, featured at this year’s Black Pride literary program. But they exist in real life and represent a quandary in dating and hooking-up: Are neon signs on a total's ass that flash "exit only" - or "entrance only" - indicate mere preference or a selfish nature? And how much does the choice of a total (fill in the blank) result from fear, insecurity, and/or stereotypes that may be undercutting our sexual identities and experience?

Politics makes strange bedfellows but the politics of positions can make frustrated bedfellows, too. How many times have two totals of the same persuasion met each other and hit it off famously, only to instantly go their separate ways when they both find out they're "tops" or "bottoms" because God forbid either makes any detours on the Hershey Highway.

Some of us get caught up in roles that we quickly decide we must play. Some total tops get off on the idea of being "masculine," being in control or having power: You know how we men like our control and power. And some total bottoms feel like they can't be aggressive or they want to be the nurturing, compliant one (although in reality, an active bottom has a lot of say in what happens and how). Stereotypes? Yeah, but they hold at least a grain of truth.

A man I dated (very briefly as you'll see why) endured heckling from his brother about gays and only chose to defend himself when the brother made a joke about getting it up the ass. Sensing his manhood was mocked, he responded indignantly, "I never would do that." And when I switched from Girl World to Man Land almost a decade ago, I let my first boyfriend exclusively, ahem, take the lead because I wasn't completely confident in my newfound sexuality.

A friend of mine claims he is a total top because bottoming doesn't get him off and adds it has nothing to do with avoiding "being submissive." He would only consider flipping with a partner as an anniversary present. So basically my friend's future boyfriend can only be sure of getting a Benetton gift certificate.

Christopher, the author, came out 20 years ago in New York City, and firmly remembers position as being a non-issue. Most people weren't hung up on it and didn't ask. Magically, they let nature take its course. "It wasn't such a deal breaker and point of negotiation like it is now," he reminisces.

But perhaps it's our rush to peg people that contribute to the politics of positioning. Think about it. Many of us try to size up someone just by figuring out where he buys his jeans or who he's with on a dinner date.

And the rise of Internet dating and sex seems to parallel the position quandary. Most sites ask you to identify whether you're top, bottom or versatile, and so already you're putting your self in a box, as you advertise yourself to your metro area no less. And how many times has someone saddled up to you in a bar and soon tries to figure out your "classification?" I've been asked about being a top or a bottom before my HIV status or job.

True preference and personal taste are legitimate things. But if we're not acknowledging the mentality and influence that go into our decisions – and we're limiting ourselves and our lovers to one role perhaps because "that's the way it goes" – is that really making the most of our sex lives? I think some of us will eventually be like Virgil – imagining what we've been missing and why we're doing it to ourselves.