A few months ago, my boss wisely suggested I remove a post from my blog about a "stealth straight" co-worker. I complied, but I secretly longed for another, non-work-related occasion that would make a "stealth straight" post necessary again. Well, I don't have to long any more. Alia H.'s roommate Patrick set off my "gay alarm" at Alia's dinner party, and I murmured to my companion, Oscar, that we should tag-team him some time, turning him into a "finger cuff," as the kids say. But then I saw the hair! Like a throwback to the rocker-boys of the 90s, emulating Joan Jett from the early 80s. Gays don't do throwbacks! So I knew he was straight then. But why the "stealth," I wonder? Is it so the ladies don't even realize they're straight until they're inside of them? Does this technique work? Anyway, I took a surreptitious photo, hoping I would catch some "crack," but sadly, I did not. This is not the first time "crack" has eluded me on a NYC evening. This post contains references to drugs, sex, and inappropriate work behavior. I might as well throw in a reference to Sarah Palin. Sarah Palin!
1 comment:
It's not a strategy or an affectation, I swear! If only. I think of it akin to a disability when it comes to girls, just like the way I lack good looks or good game.
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