The last couple of weeks I have coped with a lot of hostility, prejudice and ignorance concerning my sexuality. I could sit here and give genetic and biological factors on the reason I am gay but I don’t feel like it. Instead I am just going to give it to you from my heart. It’s kind of where it all comes from anyway.
I actually cried, well okay it wasn’t a full blown cry but I did have a few tears. I was so angry I couldn’t see straight. (no pun intended) It was a combination of a week filled with question after question, joke after joke, dumb ass after dumb ass.
Imagine this for a second. You are laughing, having a beer with friends and playing pool when you have to use the facilities. I walk in the stall and pull one of those toilet seat covers out and it rips in half. I have to giggle a little because I actually considered using it and only sitting on half the seat. Don’t worry I didn’t. I pulled another one out and was sitting there when I heard the door open and a woman’s voice. “Is that your girlfriend out there?” I ignore this because it is not a familiar voice. If it was a person I knew then they would know that was not my girlfriend out there.
“Hey is that your girlfriend?” echoes again.
“Uh, NO” I quietly say because I have no idea who is asking me this crap but I am the only other person in the restroom so I know it is directed towards me.
“Oh, well if it was it would be okay.”
“What?” I reply as I am walking out of the stall towards the sink. The expression on my face in the mirror is one of confusion. I am wondering if I have just entered the twilight zone. I shake my head.
“My Aunt is gay and some times my husband and I play poker with her and her friend. Sometimes when I do good I kiss my husband and they do the same thing sometimes and it freaks me out. I mean I am sorry but, ew, I just can’t look. You know what I mean?” she says with a nervous giggle.
I don’t reply to her. I don’t even know who this woman is. She obviously watched me walk in the restroom. I don’t think she walked in the restroom and looked under the stall and said “OH wow, those Nikes must be gay.” Why is she telling me this and does she really believe it is okay to tell me this randomness?
As she walks out of the stall I am drying my hands. I modestly look at her and give her my best fake smile that really implies “I want to slap your ignorant ass into the next century where perhaps you can find an ounce of comprehension.”
“You don’t look like one of them. You are pretty but I don’t mean it like that.” She says as she stutters. “I mean you know what I mean.”
Everything in me wants to wink at her and say “No, what do you mean sugar britches?” and slap her on the ass but of course I do not. I would love to see her go in to a homophobic coma however that is not how I roll.
“No, not really, I do not know what ‘THEM’ look like and you should kiss your husband when you play well, not good.” I say and walk out the door.
As I walk back to my friends I can’t help but think how she even knows I am gay. When she signed up for pool league was there a clause that stated “Nikki on the team that plays at 8:00 is gay? Please feel free to discuss your family issues and phobias with her while she pees.” I don’t know this woman. I still don’t even know her name. OR do I want to!
Last night I defended my sexuality to a douche bag who is over 60 years OLD, in a bar at closing, hanging out with people in their twenties and a wife at home. Yes, I do realize I should not care what the fat fuck thought but I guess I had enough. When he looked at me and said “it is okay that you choose to be that way. You have a good personality and are pretty so I still like you.” I nearly came untrained. If I would have been in different surroundings I would have stooped to his level and berated him like a red headed step child. I asked him if he chose to be attracted to women. Of course his answer was “no, I love women naturally.” I looked at him silently waiting for him to catch on but he never did. I had to walk off.
I could go into some other stories but I am over them. The moral of this story is simple. We are all different yet we strive for the same things. I firmly believe in the phrase, “Don’t hate, educate.” This is why I am telling this story. It is my attempt to promote greater acceptance, understanding and overall mutual respect. I can assure you if a person is prejudice they have a deeper hate for themselves individually than the stereotype they are belittling. I can handle the hatred because I am essentially the most beautiful person I know. The woman who said those things to me simply has a low IQ and doesn’t get out much. I can forgive that. One day the man who said those things to me will eventually figure out that an erection isn’t personal growth.
In the meantime, stop the hating people. Meet the individual, not the skin color, sexuality or religion. Unless a gay person starts slapping you on the ass and chasing you through the house you are safe. Truth is, we don’t like you just because you are of the same sex. It takes a little more than that. Sorry to burst your bubble.
Peace out suckas…and be kind! Sheesh!
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