Another Crap Day

It’s cloudy this morning—probably the downtown downpour steadily making its way south—but at the moment warm and pleasant nevertheless. Earlier this morning (not as early as I’d intended though) I walked to the grocer, ostensibly to buy kitty litter and toothpaste, and of course I spent more than I’d planned—what else is new. Well, I needed the exercise anyway. And Lizzie needed the litter—yeesh.

The sun is definitely fighting for control of the day but the boaters and various other water enthusiasts are keeping a safe distance for now, waiting to see who wins the toss. From my bedroom window I can just see one or two speedboats zooming across the lake. I am starting to relax a little.

But I am still bummed about what happened yesterday afternoon at work. Over lunch with co-workers the subject of gay came up—that is, who “looks” gay and how you can always sort of tell—and I was instantly pissed off, arguing that it was all homophobic bullshit and effectively shutting down all discussion on the subject… so for the rest of the lunch hour everyone tip-toed around me, either making inconsequential small talk or ignoring me altogether.

And for the rest of the day I was in a funk. I felt lousy about it all. I still do. I wish I had not been so defensive, that I had given people a chance to make their points—even if they were clueless, idiotic points—and then calmly challenged their assumptions in a way that got them to think. All my eruption accomplished was the stifling of honest conversation; worse, it encouraged some of the more sympathetic at the table to immediately begin policing everyone else, which was really not what I wanted. I’m sure a great deal of talking went on the minute I left the room.

Connie liked to say you can always revisit the issue and clarify things. I kept wanting to do that all afternoon, especially with the two co-workers I’d really pounced on, but I felt tongue-tied and awkward and unsure of what to say, and how precisely to say it, in a way that did not make things worse. Plus I was still feeling a little defensive and not completely convinced that I was the one with any apologies to make. Shouldn’t somebody have been apologizing to me?

Had I handled it better, here is what I think I would have said:

Okay, what is it you’re really saying? What do you mean by that? Because frankly I’m at a point where I’m about out of patience with this kind of talk; I’ve heard it all my life, I’ve seen where it goes. It nearly always turns nasty, gratuitously mean. Especially in my boomer generation, I don’t know many straight people who make observations like that—calling somebody gay, or saying somebody seems gay, or looks gay, or acts gay—and meaning it as a compliment. It’s always a snide joke, told at someone else’s expense. So—not to call you a bigot or anything—but as the resident dyke at this table I’d just like to know: where are we going with this?


... Aw, damn. Starting to rain.