So, I went to fencing tonight (surprise surprise), and when I got there, there was no electricity. (Real surprise. No. REAL surprise.)
Anyway, we fenced until it got to dark, then played with wacky wackers.
Then I made a crack about singing kumbaya, and a couple of the youngin’s said I should sing “The Scotsman” again. So I started to go along. Aaron (16 year old god-fearin’, gun-totin’, hard drinkin’, Bush worshipin’ (despite never having read anything about the man personally), but otherwise decent kid Aaron, starts bitching about it.
“Ok man thats enough. No really thats enough. Thats good. Stop. That’s enough.”
So, whilst singing (About that time two young and lovely girls just happend by//And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye…//), I walked over and dutched-rubbed him for being bitchy.
He got really bent out of shape. We play-fight all the time, we fence, we take the piss, so honestly it never occured to me before hand that this would be a problem.
Wrong. Bad call. He got all twitchy and nervous and whilst I have no proof, I just hear him thinking about being uncomfortable and wondering if I’m gay.
Couple of points. While it would be nice to be bi (more options), I’m not. Nor am I gay. I’m straight. In fact, Nicole has often told me that I “permeate masculinity”. Of course, given the rest of the guys in Nicole’s life, that isn’t saying much, but hey. However, just about every not quite so secure in themselves straight person I’ve ever met has at some point questioned by orientation.
Now, if a gay guy thought I was gay, I’d be flattered. But they don’t ever make that mistake. Ever. I just don’t fit.
However, there are a lot of repressed straight people out there that think that if you like to sing and dance, and if you’re ok with touching guys, you must be gay.
Especially in the damn south.
One day Alex was talking about some gay activist group who supposedly resides next door, and then he stopped, said “Not that theres anything wrong with that…and then he and Rachel both gave me this long, nearly practice look.
I don’t get it. Used to happen back in school, too. Except only straight people do it. Its enough to make me turn gay, just to go along with people. But then I’d never get any play, cause no one gay thinks I’m gay.
On another note, I’m gonna cut my hair pretty quick here. I think I’m gonna go look for Mom’s camera and get before and after pics, put them up to my website, and then post links to them. Thats the theory.
Not as it matters, but afterall I do have a mild case of vanity.
[EDIT: Cheers to Sandy for pointing out a linking mistake. Thats what I get for handcoding it. ]