Gayness

“But really, asshole,” she screamed, “Tell me the truth!! WHY do you want to get rid of me?!? Are you fuckin’ GAY?!?!”

She was midway through the experience of becoming my ex-wife; she yelled at me more every time we talked, with some new kind of off-balance accusation. The fact that she’d blown some cross-eyed dude in a bar while she was in Denver never entered into her thinking- this shit MUST be a character flaw on MY part. The NERVE of me kickin’ her ass to the curb...

I grinned. “Well, ya know, bein’ gay ain’t really a character flaw.”

She looked puzzled for a moment, then her brow twisted up. “AHA! So you ARE fuckin’ GAY!”

My grin got bigger. “Well, no, I don’t think so. Far as I know, I ain’t never got all hot and bothered thinkin’ about dicks and such.”

Her face said she wanted to grab something heavy and bludgeon me with it. Her fingers clenched up.

“But I’ll tell ya what,” I said, “Now that you mention it, it’d be a hell of a lot easier bein’ gay....”

>

“Dude.”

“Dude?”

“Dude. Pass me the remote. Wanna get nekkid and bump nasties?”

“Dude. Totally. But wait...shouldn’t we get all dressed up and go blow a couple hundred on dinner, dancing, and a movie or something? Maybe a walk on the beach?”

“Dude. Fuck that. You know we just wanna get nekkid and bump nasties. Don’t be such a girly.”

“Dude. Fuckin’ A Right. Sorry.”

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