I was talking with a friend on the street recently. He had a buddy with him from out of town, someone I had never met. While we three were chatting and passing the time, two other men walked by. Both of them were obviously gay.
They were in their late twenties. One was stocky, in jeans and a dark t-shirt, wearing a baseball cap brim-backwards. The other was shorter, slightly built, in a similar but more pastel get-up. His jeans were very low-slung and tight, the cuffs rolled up to show socks with flowers and stars on them. He had no cap; instead, his artificially colored blond hair was jelled up in a faux-hawk.
He appeared to have eye shadow on. He was wearing several bracelets and rings, gesticulating broadly as he talked excitedly about a new video of a pop singer he had bought.
"She is, like, sooooo fabu. I mean, like, fab-you-LUSS, girlfriend.
Leaves them other bitches in bitchdust land!"
The out-of-towner looked at this passing duo with a barely hidden scowl and said,
"Why the hell do they have to act like that?"
My friend, a man of good manners, asked, "Act like what?"
"You know," said the visiting man, "so...faggy."
This brought the previously smooth-flowing blather among us to a halt.
After a few seconds' silence, the buddy looked at his watch and said, "Hey, dude. I promised to meet up with Harry and work out. I better get going. See ya' later back at the house, OK?" He put out his hand and shook mine, saying, "Pleasure to meet ya." "Me, too.", I responded, and off he went.
My friend turned to me and said, with raised eyebrows, "Well, I guess HE's got issues."
So, what does a mild-mannered but curious shrink make of this encounter?
Stay tuned.
They were in their late twenties. One was stocky, in jeans and a dark t-shirt, wearing a baseball cap brim-backwards. The other was shorter, slightly built, in a similar but more pastel get-up. His jeans were very low-slung and tight, the cuffs rolled up to show socks with flowers and stars on them. He had no cap; instead, his artificially colored blond hair was jelled up in a faux-hawk.
He appeared to have eye shadow on. He was wearing several bracelets and rings, gesticulating broadly as he talked excitedly about a new video of a pop singer he had bought.
"She is, like, sooooo fabu. I mean, like, fab-you-LUSS, girlfriend.
Leaves them other bitches in bitchdust land!"
The out-of-towner looked at this passing duo with a barely hidden scowl and said,
"Why the hell do they have to act like that?"
My friend, a man of good manners, asked, "Act like what?"
"You know," said the visiting man, "so...faggy."
This brought the previously smooth-flowing blather among us to a halt.
After a few seconds' silence, the buddy looked at his watch and said, "Hey, dude. I promised to meet up with Harry and work out. I better get going. See ya' later back at the house, OK?" He put out his hand and shook mine, saying, "Pleasure to meet ya." "Me, too.", I responded, and off he went.
My friend turned to me and said, with raised eyebrows, "Well, I guess HE's got issues."
So, what does a mild-mannered but curious shrink make of this encounter?
Stay tuned.