The problem with closeted friends…
Let me just start by saying that I don’t actually have a problem with gays. They’re fine by me, and I respect them. I’m not homophobic and I don’t say “stay away from me” if you admit you’re gay, ‘cos I understand you’re gay and not an anal rapist. Which reminds me… why do guys do that? What if girls started saying that to heterosexual guys? Wouldn’t that be offensive?
Anyways, so, as things go nowadays, I do have a few gay friends and they’re cool, and my behavior with them is totally normal. But, there is this one friend who I know is gay, and everyone knows is gay, but since he hasn’t mustered up the courage to step out of the closet yet (he’s 32, it’s about time!), it puts the rest of us in a really awkward situation – pretending that we think he’s straight.
Harder (excuse the deliberate innuendo) than you might think.
There’s, of course, the obvious thing about him coming out and being himself and all that crap, but that’s not important. What’s important here is that it will allow me to finally stop pretending to be oblivious to his gaiety (or is it gayness?) and be cool with what he is. Gay. All I’m saying is that I know he wants a cock in his mouth, he knows he wants a cock in his mouth, everyone knows he wants a cock in his mouth but we have to sit there and pretend that it’s pink lips he’s after! Unfair, I tell you – UNFAIR!
He checks into a Celine Dion concert on Foursquare, we shut up. He quotes lines from Glee, we shut up. He has a clock widget on his computer that’s counting down to the Twilight: Breaking Dawn premiere, we shut up. See where I’m going here? We, his friends, have to keep straight-faced when shit like this goes down. Yes, we do whisper to each other every once in a while – “Has he come out yet?”, “Does he know that we know?”, etc. – but what difference does it make to him? Nothing.
And then there’s the hand movements. Now, the above mentioned activities are only known to a closed group of people, but his hand movements are there for the world to see. So, when your hand looks like it’s hanging limp from your wrist when it should be facing upwards, then yes, all the other people at Lime Tree Cafe will see it. And all of them will accept and understand that he is gay. And, if you listen closely, he will be talking about how chiffon gives him a rash, but wait – he’s not gay?
I’ve even tried to force him out a few times. We were at a restaurant with some friends and he said “I really feel like some Tandoori Chicken” and I said “Tandoori Chicken, or Tandoori Rooster?” and he said “What?” and I said “When I say rooster, I mean Cock..” and he just pouted. Of course, in an effort to counter that subtle accusation he spent the whole night trying too hard to act hetero, which meant we were subjected to crude comments about the various body parts of all females around. Which was weird, because he’d never had the pleasure of really exploring the female body and the wonders it provides. No, he night have motor-boated a really large pair of testicles, but never gotten down to the real stuff. All his “eating out” had probably been “chocolatey”. Oh dear God, he’s fucking gay, he’s so fucking gay!
So, here’s a request to him, our dear friend, from all of us. Please, please for the love of cock, admit that you’re gay. That closet can’t hold you in forever. You’re not a muff-muncher and we all know it, so stop pretending. We know you don’t listen to the Stones, so throw away that CD in your car and bring out your Dead or Alive box set (including previously unreleased tracks) and let’s go find you some cock to stuff up your anus.
PS: He really does have that Breaking Dawn countdown widget.
I absolutely loved your article! I giggled my way through and I know exactly what you mean. It’s sounds really painful for you and the rest of your friends to hold back all the giggles and comments. :’)