The Flaws of Attraction

“I’ve got pretty good gay-dar,” I told my friend of a few years after he decided to come out to me.

Shocked that I wasn’t surprised, “Well, why didn’t you say anything if you already knew?”

“Not my business. I figured you’d say something when you were ready.”

That’s how I ended up at the LGBTSQ parade downtown; in support of my friend. Funny thing is, most people think I’m homophobic based on my political and faith-based beliefs, but, I’m not.

“To each their own.”

Anyway, here I was standing on the sidewalk amid all these beautifully dressed, manicured, and coiffed women – who weren’t genetically female – or however one would say it if they knew how. Also on the same sidewalk were a group of women, ‘radically’ dedicated to the cause of the LGBTSQ movement.

The supporters yelled vile stuff at me, accused me of exploiting the gathering based on the fact that I had my camera hanging from around my neck, even though I never took one photo. And one rather large, belligerent woman even went so far as to push me off the sidewalk, she was so incensed by my presence.

This left my ‘newly uncloseted friend’ (his words, not mine,) upset and uncomfortable. In the end, he demanded that we “get the hell out of here, before I do something I’ll regret.”

Unlike me, he rarely resorts to violence or even thinks of it, so knowing this, I readily agreed. We didn’t speak once the entire four-blocks it took to hustle back to my truck.

Once we there, he asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah. I’m golden.”

“And you?”

“Yeah – but I am a little confused,” he answered.

“Oh, good then, I’m not alone.”

“What’re you confused about?”

Smiling sheepishly, I said, “I know those women aren’t really women, but they’re so well made up, it’s hard not to find them attractive. And the women, the straight one’s, the one’s I’m supposed to find attractive – weren’t.”

“I know what you mean! It’s got me a little confused too, because all those made-up women are the ones I find attractive, too! And here, I’m supposed to be attracted to men who, well…”

“Look like men,” I finished his sentence.

“Exactly!” he responded, adding, “I don’t get it.”

“Me, either. But I do think we need a drink,” I said as we stood there, laughing our asses off at each other.

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