I'm watching this movie, right now, that caught my eye because it had obviously gay undertones, and it seemed like an opportune night for easily anticipated plays with stereotypes like gay guys trying to be straight. Plus, it's cleverly titled The Art of Being Straight. I won't lie, the only reason I wanted to watch it for the homoeroticism. I didn't expect to find any charm in the odd camera shots of downtown Los Angeles. Or the acoustic soundtrack. Or to be reminded of what it was like to be in the closet.

Instead of the casual sexiness I was expecting. I got reminiscence.

And for the first time in my life, I don't mind.