I'm 42, gay, never had a bf, and hate apps. What do I do?

I am 42 and have been out as gay for 25 years. But I have never been in a relationship. I seem to only attract women and I cannot figure out why. I have tried using gay dating apps but I feel very uncomfortable doing so. I have met a ton of shady characters on them, fake profiles, men hitting me up for money after a week, and guys asking me to webcam without even meeting me in person. What do you think I should do differently?

— Name Withheld

Hey cowboy.

So, you’ve tried apps and websites. Yes, they suck. Everybody knows they suck, but few of us can imagine alternate ways to meet others — and, to be fair, for gay and queer men who live in remote places, apps and websites may be the only option.

Yes, there are fake profiles, scammers, and shady folks on all of them. I have lived in cities across the United States and now live in Berlin, and while the etiquette of German Grindr differs a bit from American Grindr, the overwhelming sense, despite stark cultural and linguistic differences, is of sameness and hegemony: the same tired chatter, meaningless exchanges, and pictures from 20 years ago (or heavily edited). It’s all the same.

I chose to forego the apps. If you do the same, you must get creative, and your options for meeting men — for sex, dating, or just friendship — will vary widely based on where you live. Even with all our technology, there are still few good, easy, reliable ways to meet men offline.

There are old-school ways like bars, clubs, bathhouses, cruising zones (certain parks, certain toilets), and so on. In most cases, these spaces need a guide, a friend, to go with you — especially cruising zones, which are “insider” knowledge, spaces known only by the men who frequent them (and the police who may, at any time, check them out and make arrests — that risk is real and ever-present).

Even in a hedonistic city like Berlin, I struggle to find dates. Living without apps means going to a gay bar on a Saturday night instead of staying in. It means going to events, parties, and places where I can expect to meet guys. Crucially, it means talking to strangers. It means joining a gay book club, a queer writing circle, a queer film group. It means I have to sometimes make the first move and face rejection — something that, as with everything else, gets easier with practice.

But here’s a great fact of life: If you make contact with enough people and expand your social life by doing more of literally anything, you increase your odds of meeting men “in the wild” because gay and queer men are out there doing things like everybody else. They are at the supermarket. They’re volunteering at the local homeless shelter. They’re walking dogs in the park. They’re at the gym. Go be among people. That is where we live.

I also sense that you’re asking about “signifiers” — ways to let people know you’re gay and looking. My dear, if I knew the cheat codes of personal style and behavior that beamed a signal directly into the minds of gay men nearby — “I’m a nice guy and also a piece of meat, come get me!” — I’d have a lot more money than I do now. Sadly, there are no such codes. There’s no “right” way to be gay.

You are gay. Gay is you. However you are, that is what gay is. I assure you there are many men out there who like what you have, what you are. You just have to find them. And, yes, that’s the hard part. That’s the work. That, in the end, is the objective of anyone in a minority populace: Find others, find family, find home. That is your sacred mission, and that’s why the gay and queer spaces that facilitate these connections are sacred, too. So Fuck Grindr and get out in the world — we are waiting for you.

P.S. Read the book Analog Cruising by Leo Herrera — a useful and inspiring guide to meeting men IRL.

Hey there! I’m Alexander Cheves. I’m a sex writer and former sex worker—I worked in the business for over 12 years. You can read my sex-and-culture column Last Call in Out and my book My Love Is a Beast: Confessions, from Unbound Edition Press. But be warned: Kirkus Reviews says the book is "not for squeamish readers.”

In the past, I directed (ahem) adult videos and sold adult products. I have spoken about subjects like cruising, sexual health, and HIV at the International AIDS Conference, SXSW, the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai, and elsewhere, and appeared on dozens of podcasts.

Here, I’m offering sex and relationship advice to Out’s readers. Send your question to askbeastly@gmail.com — it may get answered in a future post.