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At Least he's not an Eskimo
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8/8/2006
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I have a few gay friends (if you live in Atlanta and have more than three friends, you have at least one gay friend) I'm not saying that to try and give myself credibility (because it lends none), nor am I saying it to insulate me against the backlash I might receive for any non-homofriendly remarks I might make (because it's a little late for me to start apologizing now). I am saying it because all of my friends who are gay have been gay as long as I have known them. They're just like any of the rest of my friends, except funnier and with a penchant for penis. They also know stuff about window treatments and shoes. And they like to dance. And chicks aren't threatened by them.
But aside from that, the same.
I always wondered how I would react if one of my friends whom I had always known to be straight told me that he was gay. I guess if we were on a camping trip and I woke up to find him sharing my sleeping bag and he chose that time to tell me he was gay, I'd probably freak out considerably, but I always speculated that there would be some degree of shock involved even if it just came up in penetration-free conversation.
Side note: I feel sorry for Lance Bass's friends. It's really hard to pretend to be shocked. Probably harder than pretending not to be shocked. He's all, "Okay you guys, Guess what?! I'm Gaaaay!" *grand jete, grand jete, fouette en tournant...jazzhands* and they're like, "Really? Whoa. This is...so...(un)expected. I really had no...are you serious? Even after all those years of choreographed dancing in a boy band? Are you sure? Wow. I mean, wowie wow wow."
Last week I met a few friends for dinner and I was talking to a friend of mine I haven't seen in a couple of months. I'm going to call him Julian since that's way gayer than his real name. We're telling stories and catching up, and the following exchange takes place:
Julian: "I have this funny story from the weekend. Oh yeah, there's this one thing I have to tell you first so you'll understand."
Dusty: "You're gay?"
Julian: "Right... so anyway..."
*cue screeching of record needle*
I don't know who said it or where I was, but someone told me about this a few months ago and then told me to forget they said anything when they realized I didn't know. I have spent most of my life saying stuff I wasn't supposed to say and being called a dick for having done so, and therefore have trained myself to actually forget things when people tell me to- just to avoid getting myself in trouble. This was one of those things.
Maybe I had subconsciously prepared myself for this, but I was wholly unimpressed with my reaction- or lack thereof. I pretty much just nodded, took an unusually large sip of beer, and asked him about work or something.
Julian is still the same Julian. I'll admit I would have had a slightly less tolerant response had he walked up in a sequined evening gown and a purple feather boa with dildos coming out of his ears, but he's the same guy I've known for years. I didn't sleep with him when he was dating women, and I'm not sleeping with him now, so who cares?
I called him the next day to see if he was cool with me writing a blog about my totally underreacting, and said, "You know, I didn't know you were gay until last night when you mentioned it."
"Really? I figured you knew. You did a good job taking it in stride. You didn't even look surprised."
"Well, I was...kind of. I didn't ever think you were...well...fruity McFaggypants, to be politically correct, so I guess I should have been shocked or something. You should have come in all flaming and weird."
"I would have if I had known you didn't know. Actually, I've been sort of unimpressed with the reaction this has been getting from everyone. I'm thinking I'm dropping a bombshell on them, and they're all, 'Oh...okay. So anyway, as I was saying...' I mean, it's like they barely notice."
"I dunno...I guess pretty much everyone is gay around here, so no one cares. If you really want a reaction, you could go down to south Georgia and find a fundamentalist church..."
"No thanks."
"You sure? They could cure you of your condition and everything. They have this camp you can go to- I'll send you a brochure."
"I'll be fine."
So at least now I know that my friends are safe from my wrath if they tell me they switched teams. Just don't tell me you're an Eskimo, because my tolerance has limits, and it ends with Eskimos.
 Dusty
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posted by Dusty at 5:07 PM |
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16 Comments:
Cousin: "I have to tell you something." (pause, briefer than you'd think) ... "I'm gay."
Me: "Uh ... soooo ... how are the men in England?"
(Not that they have three penises or anything, just making conversation)
It was all cool from there.
Why do you wrap a hampster in duct tape? So it doesn't explode when you fuck it.
But I digress. What is really sad is when your neighbor's son is so obviously gay, yet his parents are into deep denial...to the point that his dad constantly bring's up "manly" things his son has accomplished, drops hints about his serious girlfriend, and ignores the outward signs: "Dad, do you have twenty bucks? I'm leaving to go to Gay Night at the local Gay Bar!"
dunderfunk.
sniff
Me personally? I prefer to be the sweet, sweet center of a fag sandwich on the dancefloor. Honestly... I don't think there's anything more amusing/erotic than being touched all over by incredibly beautiful men who you don't have to worry about later that evening.
Oh yeah and the whole "grand jete....jazz hands" thing made me pee in my pants just a little bit. Cut it out.
i made my brother promise that when he finally comes out he'll fedex me a handwritten invitation to his empty closet.
shake it.
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