So after typing the last line of my last post, I remembered something that happened to me while heading out to dinner with my parents a couple of years ago.
I had not yet revealed to my parents that I was, in fact, a gay man. Come to think of it, I was so deep in the closet myself at that point that all I could only find shoes by feel! Neither had I considered the general vicinity of the Queen City in which I live. So, it totally evaded me that Pride Fest was within walking distance of my apartment. (Since I wasn't out yet, I had no plans or intentions of attending.)
My parents came up for Father's Day, as well as to come to a work-related function. After we had been to my workplace, we returned to my apartment to use the restroom and freshen up for lunch. As we stepped onto the pavement of the parking lot, I heard loud speakers across the way, foretelling the enthusiastic party about to commence, disco tunes blaring and men's falsetto voices raised in response. "Woo-Woo!"
As we walked out of my apartment a few minutes later, I told my parents I'd treat lunch for a change. They agreed, and we hopped into our cars. My mom has always preferred to ride with me when she can manage it--she thinks it gives her time to "catch up" with me. I think it gives her time to annoy the hell out of me. (Did I mention my family has "subtle dysfunction" written all over it!?)
Not paying attention as we left my apartment complex, I took a left when I should've gone right. As we neared the next road, I saw "Street Closed" signs. Behind them, I saw a bright rainbow flag waving in the wind.
"Well, shit!" I muttered to myself.
"What!?" Mom asked.
"Nothing. I just forgot it was Pride Fest today. Damn! It's an easy fix, I'll just go around it."
Silence ensued for a moment, and I figured that since mom wasn't asking, there was no point in explaining. Then out of nowhere...
"Pride fest." She seemed to ruminate on the idea... "Is that a black thing?"
"Um...no, Mom." I stifled a laugh. "Um. It's, um, a gay thing."
"Oh." Her tone indicated clear misunderstanding combined ever-so-beautifully with I'm not going to ask, but I really want to--maybe if I sit silently long enough, he'll just tell me what that means.
I waited for the inevitable conversation that never happened. In my head, it went something like this:
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"So, it's a gay thing..." After an imposing silence, "Have you been to it?"
And in keeping with the perpetually 14-year-old smart-ass that lives in my head, my response would have been both simple and succinct. "ME? No. My boyfriend, however...yeah. TOTAL queen--feather boa, high heels, fishnets...the whole nine yards of glittery, sheer fabric! He's freakin' fabulous!"
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Sometimes, it really is much better to have the conversation in your head. Saying things like that out loud would've probably confused my mother more. On the other hand, if I would have said it, she'd probably have warmed up to a "normal, decent guy" like my boyfriend a lot sooner.
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