I Don't Know Many Cher Songs, But I Have a Feather Boa

I completely forgot to mention quizzo from last week. We lost. We caught up in the final round since the final round category was Reality TV, and well, we’re losers. In the end it came down to a tie breaker. The tie breaker in the instant case was a beer chugging contest. Clearly, the odds were stacked against us. So we lost, not because we didn’t know the answers, but because of a clear vendetta against our team, full of classy homos and the refined women who love them. Honestly, if I wanted to take part in a culturally biased challenge, I would have taken the SATs.

That said, we learned that the first computer was built in England and the world’s largest oil refinery resides in Venezuela. Also, Harrison Ford’s first wife wrote ET.

That same evening, towards the end of the night while scores were being tabulated a young woman came over to our table and made the mistake of talking to us. She was probably younger than we were, with long curly blonde hair and freckles barely visible through the layers of make up she had caked to her face. She was wearing black fuck-me pants about 2 sizes too small for her. Her white sequined tank top was snug, but there wasn’t enough of it to hide the black bra she was wearing beneath. She lumbered over to our table, looking like she had consumed one too many Bay Breezes. She plopped down at our table and said, “Uh oh. This looks like trouble. Whenever this many men are just with one woman, they’re all either married or gays.”

Now, leaving aside the fact that I already considered her outfit an act of aggression, I hated her for a couple more reasons. First of all, why would one assume that a group of men sitting at a table together would all have to be married or gay? Any barslut worth her weight in coverup knows that all you would have to do is a quick survey of our left hand ring fingers to see that none of us was married. Then why assume that we were gay? But for a few flamboyant exceptions, people need to learn that there are very few indicators that can guarantee with absolute certainty that someone is gay. Sure, weeks previous to that night we squealed with delight when the final category was announced, “Broadway Musicals,” and we screamed, “It’s a gay off, y’all!” But this week there were no such actions. Second of all, even if you had occasion to think such stupid thoughts, why would you say them out loud, memorializing them forever in the minds of strangers? It’s one thing to be dumb, but it’s completely another to put it on display as if it were some sort of black undergarment that couldn’t fit beneath your afflicted outer garb.

Epilogue: the girl hoisted herself off the bench at our table after our friend Dina responded to her question by simply saying, “Gay.”

The lesson to be learned is this: gays are everywhere. Just because you don’t see someone in a feather boa singing “Gypsies, Tramps & Thieves” does not mean that there aren’t necessarily gays present. When I was eating at the Terminal the other day, I sat next to a table of well-meaning though obvious conventioneers, one woman and two men. They had southern accents and lots of denim. The woman was talking about how she was having an affair with a man who pretended to be gay in front of her husband. She said her “lover” would just do things like “lisp, wiggle his hips or sing showtunes” when he was in front of her husband so that he wouldn’t know any better, but behind closed doors they would have the “best sex ever. Swear to God.” So, this woman was dating and fucking her pretend gay best friend, as her husband thought she was pulling a Grace Adler. It’s actually kind of a funny strategy and could easily be converted into a horrible movie, starring Julia Roberts or Meg Ryan. Or a good episode of “Mama’s Family.” Hilarity would ensue! But the fact that this affair is flying under people’s radars because some guy is trotting out every sad homosexual stereotype is emblematic of society’s views, sadly. Also, what a slut!

Gay men come in all shapes and sizes. Some of them even sound like men. Allegedly it's one out of every ten people. So you best watch what you say everywhere you go.

And finally, praise Jesus, Mary and Peter Liguori! Arrested Development has been RENEWED for a third season. This makes me and at least 4 of my close friends very happy!!! I thank you all for your prayers and thoughts in this time of need. Amen.