Why I prefer Ben, Jerry and Jed Bartlett to my peers
I went to a party tonight that one of my salsa classmates was throwing. A backyard, grill-out, Memorial Day kind of thing in the far south suburbs.
I thought it was nice of him to think to invite me. Besides, he seemed pretty nice in class, and isn't half bad-looking, either. So I thought I'd go and expand my social circle.
I should have saved myself the trip.
I'm an introvert with an intellectual streak. I use words like "metamerism." I like to talk about politics and theology and current events. I also like to talk about art, culture and music. I like to visit new places, meet new people and eat new food. I've been good-naturedly called a snob (to my face, who-knows-what behind my back).
You'd think I could have found at least one person at the party who shared one or more of those interests.
Instead, I learned that "muthaf***a" can be used as just about any part of speech. I also learned that someone can live in a very diverse neighborhood and still be a racist. (I don't know why this surprised me, but it did.) I learned that talking about porn and one's, um, "undercarriage" (as it was so elegantly euphemized) can fill two whole hours. Oh, and that joking about misogyny is still funny.
I like guys. Many of my friends are guys. I guess I didn't fully appreciate how blessed I am to have guy-friends who are so mature. Sure, many of them think the word "butt" is funny. So do I. When we discuss world affairs, none of them advocates killing an entire population of people.
So, thanks to my guy-friends: Stephen, Gabi, Ben, Brian, Rob, Matt, Mike, David, Dave, Benjie, Gabi, Brad and Chris. Thank you for being the good guys who give me hope that there's someone out there who will not treat me as if I'm property, who won't be threatened by my gay friends and who will enjoy exploring and celebrating the contributions of our fellow travelers on this fascinating planet.
I'd planned to spend this evening with new friends. Instead, it's the old ones. A pint of cookie-dough ice cream and the staff of The West Wing.
I went to a party tonight that one of my salsa classmates was throwing. A backyard, grill-out, Memorial Day kind of thing in the far south suburbs.
I thought it was nice of him to think to invite me. Besides, he seemed pretty nice in class, and isn't half bad-looking, either. So I thought I'd go and expand my social circle.
I should have saved myself the trip.
I'm an introvert with an intellectual streak. I use words like "metamerism." I like to talk about politics and theology and current events. I also like to talk about art, culture and music. I like to visit new places, meet new people and eat new food. I've been good-naturedly called a snob (to my face, who-knows-what behind my back).
You'd think I could have found at least one person at the party who shared one or more of those interests.
Instead, I learned that "muthaf***a" can be used as just about any part of speech. I also learned that someone can live in a very diverse neighborhood and still be a racist. (I don't know why this surprised me, but it did.) I learned that talking about porn and one's, um, "undercarriage" (as it was so elegantly euphemized) can fill two whole hours. Oh, and that joking about misogyny is still funny.
I like guys. Many of my friends are guys. I guess I didn't fully appreciate how blessed I am to have guy-friends who are so mature. Sure, many of them think the word "butt" is funny. So do I. When we discuss world affairs, none of them advocates killing an entire population of people.
So, thanks to my guy-friends: Stephen, Gabi, Ben, Brian, Rob, Matt, Mike, David, Dave, Benjie, Gabi, Brad and Chris. Thank you for being the good guys who give me hope that there's someone out there who will not treat me as if I'm property, who won't be threatened by my gay friends and who will enjoy exploring and celebrating the contributions of our fellow travelers on this fascinating planet.
I'd planned to spend this evening with new friends. Instead, it's the old ones. A pint of cookie-dough ice cream and the staff of The West Wing.
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