Good Man-Crush, Bad Man-Crush

And now we move from “bromance” to “man-crush.”

I have one really, really good man-crush, and one really, REALLY bad man-crush.  Except unlike the Urban Dictionary version, my man-crushes are definitely “sexual in attraction.”

“Good Man-Crush” is the ex-boyfriend of a friend; Tom and I have known him for fifteen years-ish, and it has been common knowledge that I salivate every time I see him.  It’s true, I don’t deny it.  When “G.M.C.” and his boyfriend called it quits, I was actually upset for the both of them, because I, like most people, didn’t know how to handle the “divorced couple” routine.  Who do we stay friends with?  Will it always be awkward conversation consisting of, “Have you seen ‘G.M.C.’?  Has he gained weight?  Is he miserable?”

“G.M.C.” and his ex have since moved on to other relationships, and although we don’t see them as often as we might like, Tom and I take some comfort in knowing that they’re still there, just not with each other.  And although I would pounce on “G.M.C.” in a minute if he asked (he won’t, I know he won’t), at least I wouldn’t have to worry about residual guilt of coming between two people that I know and love.  Tom would probably be perturbed, but I also know he would get over it with time.  And then, of course, he would probably want details.  (The only detail I have is that he wears Hanes boxer briefs.  I’ve seen the waistband.  And he smells nice – great cologne.)

“Bad Man-Crush” is an entirely different beast, because he’s family.  Technically, he’s Tom’s family and he’s an in-law, so at least he’s not a blood relation and there wouldn’t be any creepy incest-type feelings.  But he’s hot.  “B.M.C.” is so hot, and young, and good-looking, and just an all-around “lust package.”  He, of course, doesn’t realize this, and I, of course, try to keep my distance at all times – that said, “B.M.C.” would never indulge in some extra-marital dalliance.  I’m sure of it.  That, however, doesn’t stop me from wondering what his underwear waistband is and precisely how much prowess he possesses.

Not to mention that Tom would have an absolute cow if something did happen.  That would be very, very bad.

So, which is worse – a “bromance” sitting out there where you’re familiar Biblically with the “bromancee,” or a man-crush you know you can’t have but would tap in a minute?