Monday, July 25, 2005
An anecdote
A little something that clicked recently.
A gay friend of mine was complaining about how hard it was to meet someone special and enter a monogamous relationship with him. Sure, its not everyday you meet your dream sweetie at work and you spend the summer holidays with him. For a lot of people, its all about knowing where to meet people.
And for some reason I blurted something out like, "Why don't you go to the Tuscany cafe in southside. Somebody told me it turns into a gay cafe after sundown."
Smooth. Great thing to say at a party.
Of course, now that I left myself open, someone had to ask: "How do you know that?"
"Oh, that's easy. My former roommate (the psycho one) took me there sophomore year because we were discussing an idea that could've potentially been a start up worthy idea, and he felt it best if we got out of Oakland to discuss it somewhere more private."
I find myself staring back at five people whose faces contain only puzzled looks.
"Anything else you want to add?"
"Well, when I resigned from my fraternity, he did break down and cry in front of 25 grown men. And then he let me live with him for the summer and next academic year and slowly went batshit insane."
And then for everyone, all at once, something clicked. And I don't think they'll ever look at my rage-filled, tormented, monster of a former roommate the same again.
And neither will I.
A gay friend of mine was complaining about how hard it was to meet someone special and enter a monogamous relationship with him. Sure, its not everyday you meet your dream sweetie at work and you spend the summer holidays with him. For a lot of people, its all about knowing where to meet people.
And for some reason I blurted something out like, "Why don't you go to the Tuscany cafe in southside. Somebody told me it turns into a gay cafe after sundown."
Smooth. Great thing to say at a party.
Of course, now that I left myself open, someone had to ask: "How do you know that?"
"Oh, that's easy. My former roommate (the psycho one) took me there sophomore year because we were discussing an idea that could've potentially been a start up worthy idea, and he felt it best if we got out of Oakland to discuss it somewhere more private."
I find myself staring back at five people whose faces contain only puzzled looks.
"Anything else you want to add?"
"Well, when I resigned from my fraternity, he did break down and cry in front of 25 grown men. And then he let me live with him for the summer and next academic year and slowly went batshit insane."
And then for everyone, all at once, something clicked. And I don't think they'll ever look at my rage-filled, tormented, monster of a former roommate the same again.
And neither will I.
