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Coming out to your parents.
That's my favorite joke of all time**. So when Chris told me he would be attending a rollerskating party, it took everything in my power not to tell him that joke.
Just kidding, of course I told him the joke, repeatedly. And made every possible gay reference in the hours (days) that followed. There is nothing heterosexual about rollerskating. And there is nothing attractive about watching a large, adult man fumbling around a rink in bright white skates. So I of course refused to go. I like macho, beer swilling, football playing, testosterone fueled men. Seeing such a gay*** display would be an instant deal breaker. Forget California. Forget everything we've been through. That would be the end.
But now I'm reconsidering. I mentioned the party to my friend Jen and she's really, ridiculously giddy about it. She even asked if she could couple's skate with Chris. I'm pretty sure she wasn't kidding.
So, I mean, as horrific as the image of him prancing around on wheels could and will be...maybe I should lighten up and just let him channel his inner queen. Every man has one. And the fact that he's willing to do this for a friend...well, that just tells you what a good friend he is. And I'm sure he'll be a sassy little minx on wheels. You get em, gurl!
But mark my words, my month break from alcohol will end the minute I step into that rink.
**it's actually "What's the hardest part about learning to rollerblade" which is just as gay, possibly more so b/c it is done in public by "straight" men
*** gay not meant in a derogatory frat boy way, but in a fabulous glittery, sequined, rainbowed homosexual way. gays are my life, but I'd rather not date them.
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