It's recently been brought to my attention that I am a terrible gay man and that my "gay card" should have been revoked years ago. I am deeply ashamed of myself and would like to issue the following apologies to the gay community at large:
I'm sorry I don't know fashion.
I'm sorry I don't revere the divas.
I'm sorry I don't know what Stonewall is.
I'm sorry I don't broadcast.
I'm sorry I don't like drag queens.
I'm sorry I'm boring.
I'm sorry I'm not attractive.
Hopefully, you were able to detect the sarcasm in those statements and realize that I'm not the least bit sorry for any of those things. Speaking very, very generally, the gay community is obsessed with things that don't mean anything to me. So, this is my apology.
I'm sorry I don't know fashion. I can't name one fashion designer. F**k me, right? I shop at Walmart like a regular person, or even at a thrift store if I'm hard up for cash. I wear something because it's comfortable, not because it's cute or because it's making some bold statement. For God's sake, they're just clothes. I don't need to be dressed to the nines just to go grocery shopping. What red carpet are you walking on in your mind that forces you to buy ridiculously expensive clothes by some Italian guy, then ridicule those who don't?
I'm sorry I don't revere the divas. Cher, Madonna, Gaga, Donna Summer, yada yada yada. They are our goddesses and we must bow down whenever we see them. Yes? No. Sure, I love Gaga, I like Donna Summer, and I have a tumultuous love/hate relationship with Madonna. Star worship in general is annoying, but gay men take it to the next level with diva worship. Calm down. Calm all the way down. Tell some gay men that you don't care for Barbra Streisand and you'd better run for your very life. They will kill you.
I'm sorry I don't know what Stonewall is. Have I mentioned that I'm only 26? There's a lot of knowledge of the world and the past that I haven't come across. Why should I be the subject of ridicule because I don't know what Stonewall is? When I want to learn what Stonewall is, I will. The older generation of gay men (and some of the younger ones set out to impress the older ones) are always jumping on us younger guys for not being aware. Well, how about instead of being jerks about it, you educate us? And by "educate us", I don't mean "scream and insult us". Calm allllllll the way down.
I'm sorry I don't broadcast. So apparently, I'm ashamed of being gay because "gay" isn't the third word out of my mouth in every sentence. At least, that's how one person puts it. I don't introduce myself as gay, the same why straight people don't introduce themselves as such. That doesn't indicate shame. It indicates the fact that I don't know this person well enough yet to start talking about my love life, which is the only reason they'd need to know I was gay. I am an openly gay man and when questioned about my life, I am honest. But I don't need to wear a pink triangle and scream "gay, gay, gay" at the top of my lungs in order to be.
I'm sorry I don't like drag queens. Drag queens scare me. Legitimately. When I see them, I become anxious and sweaty and want to run away screaming. A friend of mine once theorized that my fear of drag queens comes from my fear of clowns. She was on to something. Think about it. Overly made up, larger than life entertainment figures who are comically aggressive. That could describe either clowns or drag queens. Not to say that drag queens are clowns or vice versa, but it certainly does put my fear into perspective. So if you ever think to invite me to a drag show...perish the thought.
I'm sorry I'm boring. I don't go to a bar or club unless I'm dragged out. And even then, there's only about a 25% chance that I'll have a good time. I've discussed my homebody status in previous posts, so I won't do the same here. But I will say that being told I have no life because I don't live in the clubs is tiresome.
I'm sorry I'm not attractive. Somewhere in Gay Law, it has been indicated that in order to be a true homosexual, one must also be a gym rat. I don't think I've ever been to a gym and the thought of working out makes me want to cry. Just look around at any gay-themed site, especially dating sites. What's the first thing you see? Likely, it'll be some impossibly attractive man put there to sell sex. Sorry we can't all look like Calvin Klein models. Sorry we don't all have perfect (usually white) skin and six packs. Get over it.
I'm sorry you don't accept me. I really am. You would think that one of the world's most prominent minorities would come together and accept one another instead of berating each other for things that, quite frankly, don't matter. Why do we constantly tear each other down instead of building each other up? Why do we exclude people from our clique instead of embracing everybody equally? Why?
