I don't know how to say this next part without coming off like a macho asshole. So fuck it; let's just get that out of the way: I'm a macho asshole. I have a 17-inch neck, a high skin fade, and a boxer's nose. My car has a dragster scoop. I hunt. I've worked as both a stunt driver and a high-rise window washer; I met my wife dangling outside her 16th-floor cubicle window.
[justif][/justif][justif]
" 'Sup?"[/justif]
When I first met this guy -- her ex -- he struck me as effeminate, but that's typical; comparatively, most men I meet -- especially in downtown Seattle -- are effeminate. I'm cool with that. Seriously. The whole, spoon-chested-vegan-hipster, Prius-and-plaid shtick is big up here. I can't pull that off, but if it looks good on you, work it. Rock your thing, baby.
There's a certain air that . . . oh, man, I'm gonna get in trouble . . . that flamboyant men put on. It looks forced and strikes me as disingenuous. To be fair, I see the opposite of this in the Army: guys who are clearly acting the part of the tough guy. You can see it. It's bad acting, on both sides.
(Edited: Similarly, there are men who are naturally effeminate, both gay and straight; and guys who naturally come off as the guy you want on your side in a bar fight, both gay and straight. It's the playacting that makes me grind my teeth. Be who you are.)
I couldn't figure out if this guy was gay, bi, confused, in the Witness Protection Program, or what his deal was. But when we first met, years ago, I could tell that he was
acting normal. Like a junkie hiding a twitch. Nothing normal about this guy but man, he was going out of his way to convince me that he was normal. SO FUCKING NORMAL.
Watch how normal I am.
I didn't see this coming. I knew something was coming eventually, but I would never have guessed this was it. God bless his wife, though. She's handling it with stunning alacrity and aplomb. The weirdest part, though, is that they've figured out that s/he's gay, but his/her wife isn't. It makes my head hurt.